U684RY 
,rr  OP 


CAUF  - 

SAN  OtEQO 


presented  to  the 

LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIEGO 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 


MR.   JOHN  C.   ROSE 

donor 


MR.    STEGG 


MEET  MR.  STEGG 


BY 

KENNETT  HARRIS 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


THESE  STORIES  ARE   DEDICATED   TO 

THAT  VERY  RARE  CREATURE,  A 

WELL-LOVED  AND  HIGHLY 

RESPECTED  CRITIC— 

MY  WIFE 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS    .      3 

II  GETTING  EVEN       , 51 

III  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE      .     .     88 

IV  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND     .....  134 
V  THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN  178 

VI    BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE     .     .     .     .228 

VII    TOBERMORY 282 

VIII    ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN    ......  301 


INTRODUCTORY 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  meet  Mr.  Stegg. 

To  do  this,  many  of  you  will  have  to  travel  into  a  far 
country ;  all  the  way  up  between  43°  20'  and  44°  45'  north 
latitude  into  the  Territory  of  Dakota,  and  to  get  into  the 
Territory  you  will,  all  of  you,  have  to  go  back  into  the  past 
a  little.  But  the  Black  Hills  country  is  well  worth  while 
visiting  and  living  in.  I  who  tell  you  this  am  not  to  be 
suspected  of  ulterior  motives,  having,  at  the  present  time,  no 
real  estate  interests  there  —  only  friends,  and  Mr.  Stegg  is 
one  of  them.  I  hope  that  you  will  think  Mr.  Stegg  worth 
while  when  you  have  made  his  acquaintance. 

Sam  Stegg,  the  old  bullwhacker  turned  granger. 

Here,  perhaps,  it  may  be  well  to  explain  that  a  bull- 
whacker  and  a  cowpuncher  are  two  different  things.  A  bull- 
whacker  is  a  gentleman  who  hauls  freight  on  wagons  drawn 
by  oxen  from  remote  centers  of  commerce,  such  as  was 
Sidney,  Nebraska,  to  outposts  of  civilization  like,  say  Custer, 
Rapid  City  and  Deadwood,  as  they  were  in  an  earlier  day ; 
so,  you  see,  he  is  professionally  more  akin  to  the  mule- 
skinner.  To  be  a  good  bullwhacker,  one  must  be  an  excel- 
lent pedestrian,  a  fluent  and  vociferous  speaker  of  the  lan- 
guage customarily  addressed  to  oxen,  tough  as  a  hickory 
knot,  inured  to  hardship  and  extremes  of  weather,  resource- 
ful in  emergency,  an  expert  in  the  manifold  uses  of  baling 
wire,  possessed  of  a  digestive  apparatus  not  inferior  to  the 


INTRODUCTORY 

ordinary  feed-grinder  and  less  susceptible  to  the  action  of 
corrosive  liquids,  patient  as  Job,  yet  a  man  of  action  and 
indomitable  courage. 

Mr.  Stegg  has  all  these  qualifications,  as  he  has  demon- 
strated during  many  years  back  and  forth  on  the  old  Sidney 
trail,  and  he  has  other  qualities.  That  he  is  the  soul  of 
hospitality  is  not  so  very  remarkable  in  a  country  where 
hospitality  is  the  invariable  rule,  but  when  to  the  abundant 
and  not  badly  cooked  ranch  fare  that  he  sets  before  his 
guests  he  adds  the  diversion  of  his  inexhaustible  yarns,  he 
achieves  a  distinction  in  entertainment.  It  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  he  originated  the  sadly  portentous  phrase  "  that 
reminds  me,"  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  his  reminder  is  set 
on  a  hair  trigger.  A  breath  will  set  it  off,  but  once  started, 
its  mechanism  has  to  run  down  of  itself.  Men  who  live 
much  in  the  great  solitudes  often  seem  to  lose  the  faculty  of 
speech  in  a  great  measure  and  become  taciturn  and  laconic 
when  the  opportunity  of  social  intercourse  presents  itself ; 
but  not  so  Mr.  Stegg.  He  is  always  glad  of  a  chance  to 
talk  and  makes  the  most  of  it.  He  is  a  complete  chronicle 
of  the  Hills  bound  in  brown  leather;  he  knows  everybody; 
he  was  on  familiar  terms  with  such  sinister  celebrities  as 
Wild  Bill,  Fly-specked  Billy  and  Lame  Johnny  and  was 
among  those  present  at  their  something-of-the-suddenest  de- 
parture from  this  life.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is  on  equally 
familiar  terms  with  judges,  senators,  bankers  and  others  of 
the  respectable  and  mighty  or  mighty  respectable,  who  know 
better  than  to  put  on  any  airs  with  him,  even  if  they  had 
the  inclination.  He  knew  most  of  them  when. 

The  stock  tender  at  the  Box  Elder  stage  station  is  favored 
with  more  of  Mr.  Stegg's  society  than  any  one  else.  The 


INTRODUCTORY 

two  are  congenial  and,  moreover,  near  neighbors,  as  prox- 
imity is  reckoned  in  the  Hills.  But  whether  at  the  Station 
or  at  the  store  in  Blueblanket,  all  but  necessary  business  is 
suspended  when  the  old  man  arrives  and  the  crowd  gather 
around  him,  confident  that  they  will  hear  something  worth 
repeating.  Sometimes  he  is  asked  for  documents  sub- 
stantiating what  he  relates,  but  even  that  little  pleasantry  is 
not  often  indulged  in. 

Mr.  Stegg  is  a  listener,  as  well  as  a  talker;  eager  and 
greedy  for  gossip,  he  has  heard  much  and  forgotten  nothing. 
Regarding  certain  things,  he  can  be  as  close-mouthed  as  a 
sprung  trap,  and  this  known  fact,  as  well  as  his  sympathetic 
and  genial  nature,  has  made  him  the  recipient  of  many  con- 
fidences, especially  from  the  young  of  both  sexes,  concerning 
whom  his  interest  is  unflagging  and  his  curiosity  insatiable. 
He  religiously  attends  all  the  dances  within  a  radius  of 
sixty  miles,  and  the  withered,  bald-headed,  gray-bearded  old 
reprobate  can  dance  as  well  as  any  of  the  boys  and  better 
than  most  of  them,  not  confining  himself  to  squares,  by  any 
means.  And,  believe  it  or  not,  the  girls  like  to  dance  with 
him.  He  has  an  ingratiating  twinkle  in  his  sharp  old  eye, 
a  fatherly  and  benign  manner  and  he  knows  how  to  say  the 
things  that  girls  like  to  hear  even  from  old  men.  A  ladies' 
man,  if  you  please!  You  may  remember  that  I  put  the 
ladies  first  in  my  introduction. 

It  is  rather  strange,  considering  all  this,  that  there  is  not, 
and,  as  far  as  is  known,  never  has  been  a  Mrs.  Stegg.  I 
like  to  fancy  that  in  his  youth  there  was  some  romance 
with  an  unhappy  ending,  that,  nevertheless,  left  no  trace  of 
bitterness  in  his  good  heart.  At  all  events  I  have  concluded 
that  of  the  many  roads  that  he  has  traveled,  actually  or 


INTRODUCTORY 

vicariously,  the  one  of  which  he  has  the  most  vivid  memories 
and  whose  scenes  and  incidents  dwell  most  pleasantly  in  his 
mind  is  that  universal  path  that  never  did,  and  never  will 
run  smooth. 


MEET  MR.  STEGG 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

TF  the  Bar-T  boy  expected  to  create  a  sensation  with 
•••  the  grinning  skull  that  he  had  brought  into  the  Box 
Elder  stage  station  he  must  have  been  grievously  disap- 
pointed by  the  indifferent  attitude  of  the  stock  tender  and 
the  bullwhacker,  who  scarcely  deigned  a  glance  at  the  poor 
moldy  emblem  of  mortality,  or,  for  that  matter,  at  the  Bar-T 
boy  himself.  They  were  withered,  gray-and-tan  Hills  vet- 
erans, these  two,  whose  experiences  had  left  them  little  to 
wonder  at  and  nothing  whatever  to  exclaim  about,  and  they 
prided  themselves  on  their  imperturbability.  Moreover, 
the  Bar-T  boy  was  all  too  casual  in  his  display  of  the  skull. 
If  he  did  not  anticipate  excitement  the  old-timers  were  mis- 
taken. 

"  Have  you  et,  Buddy  ?  "  inquired  the  stock  tender,  mind- 
ful of  the  duty  of  hospitality  at  least,  though  it  was  long 
past  the  noon  hour  and  the  dishes  were  washed.  "  Better 
unsaddle  and  turn  the  little  horse  into  the  corral  for  a  bite, 
hadn't  you?" 

"  Once  I  get  the  saddle  on  that  wall-eyed  old  son-of-a-gun 
he  stays  cinched  until  I'm  through  with  him  for  the  day," 
said  the  Bar-T  boy  with  a  glance  at  his  mount,  which  had 
sidled  with  dragging  bridle  to  the  shade  of  the  lone  cotton- 
wood.  "  He  ain't  hay-hungry ;  all  he  wants  is  his  half 

3 


4  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

pound  of  flesh  out  of  whatever  part  of  a  person  is  nearest 
to  him.  He  ain't  no  vegetarian,  that  flea-bit  old  bag  of  slats 
and  brimstone.  No,  I  don't  aim  to  linger  here;  and  I  met 
up  with  the  Welsh  Harp  chuck  wagon  the  other  side  of 
Baldwin's,  thank  you  most  to  pieces.  I  just  allowed  you 
might  be  interested  in  this  here  pick-up  of  mine." 

The  stock  tender  brought  his  abstracted  gaze  from  the  dis- 
tant line  of  Cheyenne  bluffs  and  let  it  rest  for  a  moment 
on  the  skull.  Then  he  nodded  perfunctorily. 

"  How  many  men  riding  for  the  Welsh  Harp  this  trip  ?  " 
as  asked. 

"  Wes  Powell  hasn't  got  back  from  Ogallala  yet,  has 
he  ?  "  the  old  bullwhacker  supplemented. 

The  Bar-T  boy  made  no  reply.  He  was  regarding  the 
skull  in  the  palm  of  his  hand  with  the  air  of  Hamlet  in  the 
graveyard  scene.  "  To  think  that  this  here  was  once  a 
man  like  we-all !  "  he  moralized.  "  A  man  who  drunk  and 
swore  and  chewed  tobacco  and  lied  and  stole,  and  maybe 
raised  whiskers  like  you  fellers !  And  now  —  look  at  it !  " 

"  It  ain't  no  object  to  take  pride  in,"  said  the  old  bull- 
whacker  with  a  bored  air.  "  You  could  go  to  some  of 
these  yer  cemeteries  back  East  and  load  a  wagon  with  such 
for  the  digging,  if  the  sexton  was  agreeable  and  your  taste 
run  thataway;  but  most  human  white  folks  leaves  'em  un- 
derground. I've  collected  scalps  in  my  time,  but  I've  al- 
ways drawed  the  line  at  that  kind  of  bric-a-brac."  He  eyed 
the  skull  with  furtive  curiosity  nevertheless.  "  Where  did 
you  catch  it,  Bud?" 

"  Over  by  Medicine  Butte.  I  was  riding  a  piece  off  the 
trail  to  look  at  some  brands  on  a  bunch  of  steers " 

"  When  the  little  horse  kicked  against  it  as  it  was  stick- 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  5 

ing  up  out  of  the  ground,  and  you  got  off,  out  of  curiosity 
to  see  what  it  was,  and  uncovered  this  mysterious  relict  of  a 
former  age,"  the  old  bullwhacker  concluded. 

"  You've  got  it  down  fine  —  all  but,"  said  the  Bar-T  boy. 
"  The  little  horse  is  a  fair  long-range  kicker,  but  he  ain't 
got  no  elastic  leg,  and  this  here  was  twenty  rods  away  from 
him.  I  just  seen  something  white " 

"  Sure !  "  the  old  bullwhacker  again  interrupted  with  a 
beaming  face.  "  That's  it !  '  Seen  something  white ! ' 
Lordy !  how  that  brings  back  old  times.  Buddy,  that's  how 
the  man  that  pays  you  more  wages  than  you're  worth  got 
his  start  —  Enrico  Billings.  You  don't  know  him  person- 
ally, because  he's  living  in  Omaha  now,  sitting  with  his 
feet  up  on  a  diamond-studded  mahogany  desk,  clipping 
coupons  with  a  pair  of  eighteen-carat  gold  shears.  Owns 
eighty  per  cent  of  the  Bar-T  stock;  and  that's  just  a  little 
side  issue.  When  your  boss  goes  in  to  see  him  he  crawls  into 
the  office  on  his  hands  and  knees,  with  the  annual  report  in 
his  mouth.  But  fifteen  years  ago  Enrico  seen  something 
white  a  piece  off  of  the  trail  and  got  off  his  cay  use  to  see 
what  it  was.  You  remember  Enrico,  at  Hermosilla,  Hank  ?  " 

The  stock  tender  nodded. 

Said  the  Bar-T  boy :  "  If  it  ain't  putting  too  great  a  strain 
on  your  imagination  Fd  like  to  hear  the  facts  about  Enrico. 
I've  ambitions  towards  coupon-clipping  myself,  and  it  might 
head  me,  tail  up,  for  that  there  diamond-studded  desk." 

"  It  ain't  noways  unlikely  or  improbable,"  said  the  old 
bullwhacker  gravely.  4<  Enrico  was  just  about  such  a  bow- 
legged,  freckle-faced,  slack-jawed  young  sooner  as  —  hap- 
pens round  here  every  once  in  a  while.  He  didn't  have  no 


6  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

respect  for  age;  and  sex  didn't  have  no  particular  terrors 
for  him  either.  If  he  ever  blushed  his  boots  hid  it;  if  he 
ever  done  a  full  day's  work  it  was  because  he  felt  like  it; 
and  if  he  ever  had  a  dollar,  forty-eight  hours  after  he  was 
paid  off,  it  was  because  he  was  snow-bound  or  had  a  heap 
better  luck  than  usual.  No,  Buddy,  you  ain't  got  no  worse 
handicaps  than  what  Enrico  had  —  not  to  signify.  Only 
folks  sort  of  took  to  Enrico. 

"  Sedalia  Warren,  she  took  to  him  more  than  most,  al- 
though she  never  let  on  that  she  did  until  it  come  to  a  show- 
down. Sedalia  was  one  of  these  girls  who'll  give  a  man 
seventeen  thousand  guesses  and  then  raise  the  limit  and 
leave  him  studying  for  quite  a  spell.  A  girl  has  to  be  a  little 
pink-petaled  daisy  to  do  that  and  not  fall  all  over  herself, 
and  Sedalia  never  stubbed  her  toe  one  time,  and  she  had 
a  guessing  contest  on  that  would  have  made  a  cabinet- 
organ  firm's  mouth  water  for  the  size  of  it.  Enrico  wasn't 
one  of  the  contestants.  He  knew.  He  always  knew  every- 
thing, and  was  willing  to  bet  saddle,  spurs  and  gun  on  it. 

"  I  give  in,"  he  says  to  her  three  minutes  and  eight 
seconds  after  she  had  told  him  she  was  pleased  to  meet  him. 
'  I  give  in,'  he  says.  '  I've  held  out  against  the  pick  of  the 
prettiest  from  the  Panhandle  to  Pennington  County,  but 
you've  got  me  for  keeps. 

" '  You  certainly  was  born  lucky,  and  I  want  to  be  the 
first  to  congratulate  you/ 

"'Well,  if  that's  so  I'm  tickled  to  death,'  says  Sedalia, 
smiling  at  him  with  deceitful  duplicities.  '  I  haven't  been 
so  happy  since  I  had  the  facial  neuralgia/  she  says.  *  The 
only  thing  that  I'm  worrying  about  is  where  I'll  find  any 
kind  of  a  market  for  you/ 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  7 

" '  I  said  you  had  me  for  keeps,'  says  Enrico.  '  That 
means  to  have  and  to  hold,  all  and  mighty  singular,  with 
appurtenances  and  privileges  nevertheless  and  notwith- 
standing, until  Death  horns  in  betwixt  us  and  edges  one  of 
us  out  of  the  bunch.  Me,  I'm  going  to  mail  an  order  to 
Chicago  for  a  wedding  garment  bright  and  early  to-morrow 
morning.' 

" '  Don't  forget  to  mention  that  you  want  a  straitwaist- 
coat,'  says  Sedalia. 

"  Right  there  the  fiddler  hollered  '  Cheat  or  swing ! '  and 
Sedalia  cheated.  She  done  it  the  lightest,  neatest,  grace- 
fulest  and  easiest  you  ever  seen.  It  was  like  trying  to  pick 
a  bubble  of  quicksilver  off  a  china  plate,  seemed  to  me,  for 
Enrico  to  more  than  touch  her  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers 
—  and  yet  the  next  time  he  got  her.  And  he  swang  her ! 
He  certainly  did !  That  dance  was  in  Clint  Soper's  cabin  — 
a  tight  fit  for  two  set  —  and  I  thought  Enrico  would  knock 
the  chinking  out  of  the  wall  with  the  tip  of  that  girl's  shoe. 
After  that  quadrille  Dick  Wade,  the  coroner,  led  Enrico 
outside  and  intimated  that  it  pained  him  to  see  a  lady  man- 
handled thataway. 

" '  Did  you  ever  take  a  bite  out  of  the  back  of  your  neck, 
Dick  ?  '  asks  Enrico.  '  You  might  try  it ;  you'll  find  it  easier 
than  sitting  on  yourself,  which  you  might  have  occasion  to 
do  if  you  monkey  with  me.' 

" '  This  here  is  a  social  occasion  and  no  time  nor  place 
for  me  to  perform  the  duties  of  my  office  or  provide  the  ma- 
terial for  the  same,'  says  Dick.  *  But  you  mark  my  pro- 
phetic words:  I'll  collect  my  fees  for  sitting  on  your  re- 
mains afore  I've  done  with  you.' 

"  And  them  was  sure  enough  prophetic  words,  although 


8  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

it  didn't  turn  out  just  the  way  Dick  meant  'era.  Anyway, 
there  wasn't  no  bloodshed  that  night  and  Enrico  went  back 
and  made  himself  unpopular  with  the  boys  and  an  object 
of  pity  and  contempt  to  most  of  the  girls  by  buzzing  Se- 
dalia  whenever  he  got  a  chance,  and  taking  the  medicine  she 
gave  him  as  if  he  liked  it. 

"  Bright  and  early  after  a  dinner  that  he  didn't  eat  next 
day  Enrico  ambled  over  to  Old  Man  Warren's  ranch  just 
north  of  the  Bosbyshell  addition  to  the  city  of  Hermosilla, 
and  he  lingered  there  for  about  four  calendar  months,  spell- 
bound and  spellbinding.  Once  in  a  while  he'd  tear  himself 
away  long  enough  to  catch  up  a  little  on  his  sleep  or  get  a 
meal  of  victuals  or  go  through  the  motions  of  punching  cows 
for  Al  Williams  so's  to  get  a  little  spending  money,  but 
them  was  only  what  you  might  call  intervals.  If  you  took 
Old  Man  Warren's  word  for  it  they  was.  The  old  man  was 
from  Missouri  —  that's  how  come  he  named  Sedalia  —  and 
he  was  homesick.  He  figured  on  making  a  living  raising 
garden  truck  on  his  ranch,  which  there  was  about  ten  acres 
plow  land  on  the  creek  and  the  rest  of  the  hundred-and-sixty 
banks  and  gullies  of  gypsum  that  he  had  taken  up  because 
there  wasn't  no  better  and  because  he  liked  elbowroom. 
Well,  he  made  out  to  live,  but  he  didn't  like  the  country,  and 
he  seemed  to  have  much  the  same  opinion  of  Enrico.  He 
didn't  act  as  you  might  say  hostile,  at  first,  but  Enrico  just 
naturally  palled  on  him.  He  used  to  look  at  the  boy  and 
sigh.  '  Same  old  face ! '  he'd  say.  '  Same  old  face ! ' 

"  '  The  same  sweet,  sunny,  honest,  good-looking  face ! ' 
Enrico  would  say,  to  help  him  out.  '  Always  welcome,  ain't 
it?1 

"  '  Always  open,  night  and  day ! '  the  old  man  would  come 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  9 

back,  and  shake  his  head  mournfully.  But  he  kept  the 
peace.  Sedalia  wasn't  by  no  means  so  tender  of  Enrico's 
feelings,  but  the  boy  told  her  that  he  liked  it. 

"  '  It's  refreshing  and  it  has  all  the  charm  of  novelty,'  he 
says  to  her.  4  You  take  a  fellow  that's  been  sought  after 
and  made  over,  the  way  I've  been  all  my  life  —  nothing  too 
good  for  him  and  no  word  but  words  of  praise  and  love  — 
and  he  gets  cloyed  up  a  considerable.  What  you  tell  me 
about  myself  is  like  a  sprinkle  of  pepper  sauce  on  a  oyster 
—  gives  a  fellow  an  interest.  But  it  won't  last.  You'll  get 
to  appreciating  me  more  and  more.  Pretty  soon  I'll  begin 
to  dawn  on  you,  sort  of/ 

"  '  You've  begun  that  quite  a  while,'  says  Sedalia.  '  I'd 
like  to  have  you  sunset  on  me,  sort  of.' 

"  About  that  time  she  was  particular  encouraging  to  Dick 
Wade  —  also  to  Ed  Prince  and  Walt  Barlow  and  Pat  Fer- 
guson and  Shorty  Simms,  and  a  dozen  or  so  others  whose 
names  I  disremember.  They  was  the  guessers.  But  En- 
rico was  right  easy  in  his  mind  all  along,  dog-gone  him! 
He  could  keep  up  his  end  with  any  of  'em  in  personal  con- 
versation, and  while  he  wasn't  no  confirmed  scrapper  he'd 
come  out  of  one  or  two  little  tangles  in  good  shape  and  left 
the  other  tangler  a  considerable  marred  and  chipped  on  the 
edges.  He  was  one  of  these  cheerful  and  willing  cusses 
with  a  straight  and  steady  look  and  as  prompt  and  per- 
niciously active  as  a  nigger-chaser  on  the  Fourth,  once  his 
powder  catched  fire ;  but  all  the  same  he  had  a  long  fuse 
and  kept  it  damp  at  the  starting  end.  Another  thing,  no- 
body but  Dick  Wade  suspected  that  he  had  any  show  what- 
ever with  Sedalia.  I  reckon  Dick  was  the  only  one  that 
hated  him  with  any  real  enthusiasm. 


10  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

"  Time  went  on,  as  the  fellow  says,  and  finally,  along 
about  fall,  it  come  to  a  show-down  betwixt  Sedalia  and  En- 
rico. That  was  the  year  that  the  F.  E.  &  M.  V.  graders 
got  into  Hermosilla.  All  of  the  prominent  citizens  was 
broke  then.  They'd  already  cut  loose  from  the  mother 
county  and  organized  a  infant  of  their  own,  electing  them- 
selves to  all  the  offices  by  unanimous  majorities,  but  the 
tax  collections  was  small,  slow  and  scattering,  and  when 
they  come  to  cut  'em  up  there  wasn't  no  chunk  big  enough 
to  cover  grocery  bills.  When  the  railroad  come,  though, 
they  fixed  for  a  boom.  Billy  Thomas  fixed  his  pins  to  go 
to  Yankton  to  get  a  touch  of  high  life  in  the  legislature  and 
haze  capital  down  Hermosilla  way  on  the  side ;  all  the  other 
boys  got  out  and  looked  after  their  fences  in  the  political 
field.  Offices  was  agoing  to  be  something  more  than  empty 
honor  and  a  little  grubstake  now  and  then.  Dick  Wade, 
who  had  taken  the  coroner  office  out  of  party  spirit  and  a 
hope  of  something  better,  come  out  for  sheriff. 

"Everybody  was  happy  and  hopeful  except  Old  Man 
Warren.  He'd  already  sold  out  his  truck  to  the  grading 
camps  and  hadn't  soaked  the  prices  to  'em  near  what  he 
might  have  done,  and  that  weighed  on  his  mind.  He  hadn't 
got  no  illusions  about  selling  his  ranch  for  town  lots,  and  it 
looked  like  a  hard  winter.  On  top  of  that,  Enrico  was 
round  more  than  ever  —  and  that's  how  it  come  to  a  show- 
down. 

*'  Enrico  rode  over  one  afternoon  and  found  Sedalia 
out  by  the  chicken  pen  with  a  hammer  and  a  bucket  of 
staples  trying  to  fix  a  gap  in  the  netting,  and  the  first  thing 
he  noticed  was  that  her  eyelids  was  a  mite  red  and  her  nose 
a  trifle  swelled.  She  didn't  seem  pleased  to  see  him  either. 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  11 

"  Honey,"  he  says,  "  you  shouldn't  take  on  thataway  when 
I'm  gone.  You  might  know  that  I'd  be  back  again  some 
time.  Cheer  up!  I'm  here  now,  anyway.  Don't  you  see 
I'm  here?' 

"  '  You  bet  I  do ! '  she  says.  '  But  if  you  think  you  are 
a  cheering  sight  to  me  you'd  better  go  away  and  think  it 
all  over  again.  Find  a  nice  quiet  place  about  two  thousand 
miles  off  and  take  a  year  or  two  to  ponder.' 

"'If  you  wan't  crying  for  me,  what  else  could  it  be?' 
asks  Enrico.  '  You've  got  almost  everything  else  you  want 
or  need,  except  a  few  things  I'm  going  to  get  you.' 

"  '  If  you  must  know,  I  pounded  my  thumb,'  says  Sedalia. 

"  '  Show  me ! '  says  he. 

"  But  she  put  her  hands  behind  her  back.  '  Honest,  no 
fooling;  you'd  better  go,  Enrico,'  she  says;  'and  if  I  was 
you  I'd  stay  gone.' 

"  *  Where's  pa,  that  he  lets  his  darling  little  girl  pound  her 
poor  thumb  with  the  nasty  old  hammer  ? '  says  Enrico. 

"  '  Pa's  in  the  house,  with  his  buffalo  gun  took  apart, 
cleaning  and  oiling  it  up  for  you,'  says  Sedalia.  '  Pa's 
painted  his  face  and  socked  the  hatchet  into  the  war  post 
up  to  the  eye,'  she  says.  '  He's  bad  medicine  for  you,  my 
poor  Enrico  —  and  he's  working  fast.  You  climb  your 
horse  again  and  jog  along.  Honest!  I've  done  my  best 
with  him.' 

"  Enrico  noticed  that  her  lip  was  a-trembling.  '  Let  me 
see  that  thumb ! '  he  says.  He  caught  it  with  one  of  them 
quick  motions  of  his,  looked  at  it  and  kissed  it;  then  he 
looked  at  the  other  one  and  kissed  that,  although  there 
wasn't  mark  nor  scar  on  either  of  them.  Still  holding  them 
little  thumbs  he  looked  at  her  long  and  steady. 


12          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

" '  We'll  quit  fooling  now,'  he  says.  '  Leastways  well 
quit  this  particular  kind  and  fool  along,  pleasant  and  easy 
together,  for  the  rest  of  our  days.  I  told  you  right  at  the 
jump-off  that  we  was  going  to  get  married,  you  and  me. 
You  thought  I  didn't  mean  what  I  said.  Look  at  me  now 
and  you'll  know  I  do.  I  know  you  think  a  heap  of  me  and, 
get  down  to  cases,  you're  too  much  of  a  dear,  God's  woman 
to  play  with  me  when  the  play's  run  out.' 

"  She  was  enough  of  a  God's  woman  to  hold  off  as  long 
as  she  could,  although  her  blushes  and  her  shining  eyes  gave 
her  away. 

"  '  Heavens,  the  conceit  of  him ! '  she  says.  '  You're 
homely  as  a  mud  fence ;  you  don't  know  any  more  than  the 
territorial  statutes  provides ;  and  you're  poor  as  skim  toast- 
water,  which  is  worse  than  all ;  and  you  have  the  nerve ' 

"  Enrico  certainly  had  the  nerve.  Right  there  he  drew 
her  to  him  by  the  thumbs,  catched  a  new  holt  and  stopped 
her  mouth  in  the  old-fashioned  way  until  she  was  breath- 
less. Then  he  went  to  the  house  to  see  pa;  and  Sedalia 
went  along,  too,  hanging  tight  to  his  arm. 

"  Sure  enough,  pa  was  cleaning  up  the  old  gun,  and  he 
had  blood  in  his  eye  when  he  looked  up  and  seen  who 
it  was.  For  about  as  long  as  you  could  draw  a  long  breath 
he  had  two  notions,  but  that  was  long  enough  for  him  to 
think,  and  he  threw  one  of  'em  into  the  discard  and  went 
on  oiling  and  didn't  do  no  more  than  grunt  when  Enrico 
asked  after  his  health. 

" '  You  won't  get  no  buffalo  this  side  of  the  Canadian 
line,'  says  Enrico,  watching  him  with  friendly  interest.  '  If 
I  was  you  I'd  go  to  manicuring  the  shotgun  and  try  up  the 
creek  for  mud  hens.' 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  13 

" '  A  shotgun  wouldn't  make  no  impression  on  the  game 
I'm  after,'  says  the  old  man.  '  I  doubt  if  this  here  ain't  too 
light  to  make  much  of  a  dent  in  your  hide.  What  I  need 
is  one  of  them  mountain  howitzers  they've  got  up  at  Fort 
Meade ;  but  I'll  give  this  a  trial  if  I  get  a  line  on  you  any- 
wheres within  a  mile  of  this  house.  You've  got  about 
seven  minutes  and  ten  seconds  to  make  that  mile,  Enrico.' 

" '  Now,  pa,  I  told  you  that  was  foolish  talk,'  says  Se- 
dalia.  '  And  there's  two  of  us  against  you  now,'  she  says. 

"'I  reckon  if  that's  so  I'll  cut  down  the  majority  and 
make  it  an  even  break,'  says  the  old  man.  He  gave  the  lock 
a  finishing  wipe  with  the  rag,  slipped  a  ca'tridge  into  the 
chamber  and  swung  round  on  Enrico.  '  You  get  out  of 
here,  lively ! '  he  says.  '  I'm  a  long-suffering  man,  but 
there's  metes  and  bounds  to  endurance,  and  you've  been 
crowding  me  to  the  edge  for  some  time.  Sedalia,  you  step 
to  one  side.  You  ain't  no  sandbag,  nor  yet  no  armor  plate ; 
and  that  young  fellow  has  got  six  minutes  good  yet  if  he 
don't  make  no  false  moves.' 

" '  Step  aside,  honey,'  says  Enrico.  '  I'm  agoing  to  sit 
down,  and  pa  is  too  much  of  a  sport  to  shoot  me  sitting. 
Now,  pa,  just  state  your  objections  to  me  as  a  son-in-law 
like  a  gentleman  and  a  Missourian  and  quit  acting  long- 
haired and  frantic.  What's  the  matter  with  me?  Never 
mind  the  little  things,  but  specificate  the  big  trouble.' 

" '  You're  all  right  in  a  good  many  ways/  says  the  old 
man  —  'Sedalia,  you  just  let  my  whiskers  be!  —  I  don't 
call  to  mind  what  them  good  points  of  yours  are  exactly, 
Enrico,  but  for  the  sake  of  argument  we'll  say  that  you've 
got  'em.  The  big  trouble  with  you  is  that  you  ain't  worth 
hell  room;  and  I've  set  my  heart  on  a  son-in-law  that  will 


14          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

give  Sedalia  all  the  luxuries  of  sustaining  grub  and  shoes 
and  a  new  dress  pattern  now  and  then,  to  which  she  has  been 
accustomed.  I  want  a  son-in-law  that  will  be  a  prop  and 
staff  to  my  declining  years,  and  not  no  free  boarder  on  the 
sweat  of  my  brow,  and  I'll  sure  stain  my  soul  —  Sedalia, 
if  you  don't  let  them  whiskers  be  I'll  paddle  you  good!  — 
I'll  sure  slop  lifeblood  afore  I'll  be  crossed  by  any  lop-eared, 
loafing,  leather-breeched  cowpunch  that  ever  swung  a  rope 
instead  of  swinging  in  it.' 

"  '  I  guess  I  catch  the  general  drift  of  your  remarks/  says 
Enrico.  '  You  want  Sedalia  to  marry  a  boy  that's  got  all 
kinds  of  them  good  points  that  I've  got  and  is  a  money- 
maker. All  he's  got  to  do  is  to  prove  up  on  them  qualifica- 
tions and  get  his  patent;  ain't  that  so?  Well,  why  didn't 
you  ever  mention  it?  Now  listen:  I'll  take  you  up  on  that! 
I  can  get  money  just  as  easy  as  I  can  get  anything  else  I 
want  if  I  give  my  mind  to  it;  and  I'll  wait  for  Sedalia 
until  you're  satisfied.  Is  it  a  whack?' 

"  Well,  there  was  a  heap  more  talk  before  it  was,  but 
finally  the  old  man  come  to  his  milk.  But  there  wasn't  to 
be  no  bar,  meantime,  on  any  of  the  other  boys.  Pa  Warren 
figured  to  himself  that  Dick  Wade,  for  one,  was  agoing  to 
be  the  next  sheriff  and  that  with  the  railroad  coming  in 
there  was  apt  to  be  what  they  call  a  strong  bull  movement 
in  crime.  Pa  always  liked  to  copper  his  bets. 

"  Before  Enrico  went  away  Sedalia  says  to  him :  '  You 
come  out  of  that  mighty  well,  dear;  but  if  I  wasn't  right 
ambitious  and  if  you  had  amounted  to  a  row  of  pins  you'd 
never  have  come  even  this  near  to  getting  me.' 

"  '  No  "  this  near  "  about  it,'  says  Enrico.  '  I've  done  got 
you !  But  why  so  ?  ' 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  15 

" '  I'm  a  great  hand  to  make  something  real  nice  out  of 
mighty  poor  material/  she  says.  '  I  take  a  pride  in  it,  and 
I'm  going  to  be  entitled  to  a  heap  of  credit  by  the  time  I've 
got  you  cut  and  shaped.  Any  idea  how  you're  going  to 
make  that  stake,  darling  ?  ' 

"  'About  a  million  of  'em/  says  Enrico.  '  All  that's  going 
to  bother  me  is  to  pick  out  the  best  one.  I  might  go  down 
to  Edmund  Bell's  Eagle-Bird  and  get  quick  action  on  a 
small  investment  in  red,  white  and  blue.  I'd  win,  I  know. 
I've  got  the  largest  size  lucky  hunch  I  ever  had  in  all  my 
born  days ;  still,  I  don't  want  us  to  get  our  start  thataway. 
Holding  up  the  stage  is  another  idea,  but  there's  an  element 
of  risk  in  it  that  as  an  engaged  man  I  don't  feel  free  to 
chance.  There's  prospecting.  I  might  strike  a  bonanza 

anywhere,  once  out  of  the  gypsum  belt,  but '  He 

shook  his  head  at  the  red  earth  banks  with  their  milky 
outcroppings.  '  If  there  was  only  a  market  for  gypsum 
now ! ' 

"  *  How  about  taking  up  a  good  homestead  somewhere 
and  working  hard  and  steady  and  saving  your  money  to  put 
into  cows  ?  '  Sedalia  suggests. 

"  '  Hm-m ! '  says  Enrico.  '  Only  trouble  with  that  is  that 
you  and  me  will  be  old,  old  folks  before  the  merry  wedding 
bells  ring  out  if  we  stick  to  the  bargain  with  pa.'  He 
catched  a  sight  of  her  face.  '  But  I'll  do  that  if  I  can't 
think  of  nothing  better/  he  says  in  a  hurry.  '  Why,  sure ! 
Working  hard  and  steady  is  my  long  suit.  But  —  I'll  study 
on  it,  sweetheart.  That  hunch  of  mine  is  getting  stronger 
every  minute.  Sure,  I'd  make  a  good  granger;  but  there 
ain't  no  denying  that  I've  got  brains,  and  it  would  be  a  pity 
not  to  use  'em.' 


16          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

" '  I'll  do  some  studying  myself/  says  Sedalia.  '  Don't 
you  bank  too  much  on  that  intellect  of  yours  though.  The 
pen's  full  of  men  that  done  brain  work  instead  of  using 
their  backs  the  way  they  ought/ 

"  She  said  that  kind  of  discouraging  and  Enrico  went 
back  to  Fred  Willor's  boarding  house  feeling  a  mite  less 
chipper.  Supper  wasn't  quite  ready,  so  he  went  into  the 
little  back  setting  room  and  sat  down  by  Fred's  specimen 
cabinet.  Fred  come  in  after  a  while  and  found  him  star- 
ing into  the  glass  doors.  '  I'll  get  the  key/  Fred  says. 

"  '  Don't  trouble ! '  says  Enrico.  '  I  ain't  no  rock  sharp ; 
and  I  wasn't  looking  at  anything  in  particular,  anyway.' 

" '  No  trouble/  says  old  Fred,  unlocking  the  door  and 
commencing  to  unload  the  debris.  '  Here's  a  little  bottle 
of  nuggets  I  washed  out  of  my  claim  on  Castle  Creek.  First 
and  last,  I  took  close  on  to  fifteen  hundred  dollars  out  of 

that  claim,  and  if  I  had  had  any  sense That's  pyrites 

there,  and  alongside  of  it  is  a  chunk  of  the  pure  quill  from 
the  Holy  Terror.  I'd  like  a  ton  of  it.  Them  there  is 
geodes,  and  that's  a  stalactite  from  Wind  Cave.  These 
here  is  gypsum  crystals  and ' 

" '  Let  me  look  at  that ! '  says  Enrico.  '  It  don't  look 
like  gypsum  to  me/ 

"  *  It's  the  crystals/  says  Fred.  *  You  find  that  blamed 
stuff  in  all  kinds  of  shapes.  They  make  plaster  Paris  of 
it  —  same  as  that  statuette  up  on  the  whatnot  there.  Say, 
there  was  a  popeyed  fool  got  off  the  stage  here  one  day 
from  Sioux  City  and  he  tried  to  tell  me  that  statuette  was 
mercury.  Stuck  to  it  —  until  I  told  him  I'd  done  too  much 
amalgamating  with  mercury  for  him  to  run  that  kind  of  a 
blazer  on  me.  What  do  you  reckon  he's  got  them  wings 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          17 

on  his  heels  for  ?  And  on  his  hat,  b'gosh  1  He's  what  you 
might  call  a  light  dresser,  ain't  he?  Like  Lo,  the  poor  In- 
jun, whose  untutored  mind  clothes  him  before  and  leaves 
him  bare  behind,  sort  of.' 

" '  He's  sure  a  well-made  figure  of  a  man,'  says  Enrico, 
sizing  up  the  statuette,  kind  of  interested. 

"  Fred  turned  back  to  the  cabinet.  '  Here's  a  chunk  of 
petrified  wood,'  he  says.  '  I  reckon  you've  see  a  plenty  of 
that,  but  this  here  come  from  Montana.  There's  whole 
forests  of  it  there  —  and  other  things  —  bones  and  shells 
and  turtles.  Beats  all  how  it  come!  I'd  hate  to  sleep  out 
on  some  of  them  hillsides,  for  fear  I'd  wake  up  and  find 
myself  building  material.  By  gosh!  there's  the  bell  at 
last.  You'd  better  hurry  if  you  want  anything  to  eat.' 

"  He  locked  up  the  cabinet  and  they  went  in  to  supper. 
Enrico  was  kind  of  absent-minded  all  through  the  meal, 
and  all  the  way  back  to  the  ranch  he  rode  most  of  the  time 
at  a  walk,  studying.  In  the  morning  he  told  Al  Williams 
he'd  draw  his  pay  and  quit,  and  before  night  he  was  back 
at  Hermosilla  and  took  the  stage  from  there  to  Deadwood. 
From  Deadwood  he  went  to  Lead  and  put  in  a  day  or  two 
at  the  Homestake  foundry  with  Billy  Lang,  who  was  an  old 
friend  of  his.  He  told  Billy  he  wanted  to  watch  the  molders 
and  learn  a  few  new  cuss  words,  and  he  didn't  know  no 
better  place  to  combine  them  educational  advantages.  Then 
he  went  back  to  Hermosilla  and  catched  Old  Man  Warren 
coming  out  of  the  Eagle-Bird  wiping  his  mouth,  and  headed 
him  back  in  again.  They  was  in  there  the  best  part  of  an 
hour,  in  a  far  corner  by  themselves;  and  Enrico  talked 
all  that  time  pretty  steady.  Finally  they  got  up  and  shook 
hands,  solemn  and  ceremonious. 


18          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

" '  Understand,  this  here  is  betwixt  you  and  me,'  says 
Enrico  as  they  parted.  '  Sedalia  ain't  to  know  no  more  than 
what  I  tell  her.  I'll  be  over  in  the  morning.' 

" '  It's  a  whack,'  says  the  old  man. 

*'  According  to  program  Enrico  gave  Sedalia  a  surprise 
visit  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  she  seemed  about 
as  glad  to  see  him  as  he  had  any  right  to  expect,  until  he 
told  her  that  he  had  jumped  his  job,  after  which  she  cooled 
off  some.  '  Of  course,  forty  a  month  and  provender  comes 
close  to  being  an  insult  to  a  person  with  your  brains  and 
energy,'  she  says.  '  Still,  it  ain't  apt  to  hurt  like  nothing  at 
all  and  find  yourself.  But  maybe  some  total  stranger  has 
offered  you  a  hundred  and  double  rations.' 

" '  If  he  did  I'd  hurl  the  offer  back  in  his  teeth,'  says 
Enrico.  '  I've  got  my  big  idea,  girl.  It's  agoing  to  take 
brains  and  energy,  like  you  say  I've  got,  and  it's  agoing 
to  take  grinding  toil  and  nerve  strain;  but  that  don't  mean 
nothing  to  your  Enrico  when  the  reward  is  his  Sedalia.' 

" '  That's  very  pretty,'  says  Sedalia.  '  And  now  what's 
the  big  idea  ? ' 

"'Gypsum,'  answers  Enrico  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  at 
the  hundred  and  fifty  acres  scattered  round  him.  '  Here  it 
is,  laying  round  waiting  for  the  magic  touch  of  genius  and 
energy  to  turn  itself  into  a  young  mint.  Did  you  know  that 
they  made  plaster  Paris  out  of  gypsum  ?  Did  you  know  that 
they  use  it  for  fertilizer  back  East  and  for  —  lots  of  things  ? 
Are  you  aware  that  the  railroad  is  agoing  to  link  with  bands 
of  steel  this  inexhaustible  supply  with  this  insatiable  de- 
mand? That's  whatever,  girl.  I'm  agoing  to  take  pa  into 
partnership  with  me,  and  after  some  experimenting,  for 
which  I  furnish  the  capital,  we're  agoing  to  ship  this  ranch 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  19 

to  the  land  of  the  rising  sun  in  carload  lots.  Where's  pa? 
I  want  to  put  it  to  him  right  now.' 

" '  I  think  you  are  crazy,'  says  Sedalia.  '  Pa's  out  rest- 
ing in  the  haymow  right  now,  I  reckon.  He  got  a  consider- 
able fatigued  in  town  last  night,  and  I  judge  this  would  be 
a  good  time  to  talk  business  with  him !  Enrico,  come  back, 
you  coot !  He'll  kill  you.' 

"  But  Enrico  had  started  for  the  barn.  Sedalia  stood 
watching  and  listening  for  sights  and  sounds  of  trouble, 
but  pretty  soon  Enrico  and  pa  came  out  as  friendy  looking 
as  you  please. 

"  '  I  will  say  that  Enrico  ain't  by  no  means  the  slouch  that 
I  thought  he  was,'  says  pa.  '  I  ain't  no  rainbow  chaser  and 
I  don't  believe  in  looking  at  the  bright  side  of  things  till 
your  eyes  get  dazzled,  but  I  like  his  scheme  and  I  count 
on  him  and  me  making  quite  a  stake  out  of  this  property 
after  all.' 

"  Most  generally  Sedalia  knew  about  what  to  expect  of 
pa,  but  this  sure  jolted  her.  Still  it  took  quite  a  spell  to 
make  her  think  that  Enrico  knowed  what  he  was  a-doing. 
Whether  he  knowed  or  not  he  certainly  humped  himself. 
First  off,  he  packed  his  bed  roll  and  some  grub  to  an  old 
cabin  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge,  that  the  Stevens  boys 
built  for  a  road  house  before  Hermosilla  got  started  and 
when  there  was  a  road  there.  To  satisfy  idle  curiosity  he 
gave  out  that  he  had  took  the  claim  for  a  homestead,  and  his 
reputation  for  horse  sense  was  such  that  folks  believed 
him.  Still,  there  was  a  spring  there,  as  well  as  a  lot  of 
scenery  set  up  on  end,  and  the  cabin  was  so  a  man  could 
easy  live  in  it  after  he'd  killed  off  a  nest  of  rattlesnakes  that 
had  preempted  one  of  the  bunks;  so  inside  of  half  a  day 


20          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

Enrico  got  settled  and  began  to  work  on  the  big  idea.  As 
a  starter  he  boarded  up  an  old  shed  that  was  off  to  one  end 
of  the  Warrens'  claim  and  built  a  little  furnace  in  it  under 
a  steel  tank.  The  old  man  bossed  both  jobs  and  Enrico 
done  the  work  —  according  to  his  own  notions.  The  next 
thing  he  hauled  wood,  cut  wood  and  piled  wood  until  Se- 
dalia  cried  at  the  sight  of  his  poor  hands  and  begged  him 
to  let  up. 

"  There  wasn't  no  let-up  to  Enrico  though.  When  the 
wood  job  was  done  he  got  to  work  with  pick,  shovel,  gad 
and  bar  on  the  gypsum;  and  before  long  he  had  half  of 
the  shed  stacked  to  the  roof  with  slabs  and  blocks  that  he'd 
dug  out  and  hauled  on  a  go-devil  that  he  had  made  over  a 
road  that  he'd  built  through  the  draws.  One  busy  boy  he 
was.  And  he  wouldn't  so  much  as  take  a  meal  at  Warren's. 
Sedalia  couldn't  hardly  force  a  loaf  of  bread  or  a  pie  on 
him. 

" '  What  I'm  striving  for  is  to  fix  things  so's  you  won't 
have  to  cook  for  nobody,  unless  it's  for  sport,'  he  says  to 
her.  '  Far  be  it  from  me  to  increase  your  burdens.  I'll 
take  this  here  pie  as  a  keepsake  since  you've  made  it  for  me, 
but  I  wouldn't  be  no  such  a  hog  as  to  eat  it.' 

" '  Take  it  as  a  keepsake  then,'  she  says.  '  Wear  it  next 
to  your  heart  and  sleep  with  it  under  your  pillow  if  you 
want  to,  Enrico  dear.  You  don't  have  to  work  that  hard 
for  me.  You're  a  foolish  boy ! ' 

" '  I  love  to  work  hard,'  he  says.  '  I'd  sooner  work  than 
eat.' 

" '  You're  an  unblushing  liar,'  she  says.  She  didn't  say 
it  unkind,  but  just  stating  facts.  '  But  you  are  getting  thin,' 
she  says,  '  and  I  don't  like  it/ 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  21 

*'  *  That's  jealousy,  seeing  Dick  Wade  round  here  so 
much/  says  he  — '  and  the  aggravation  of  having  to  keep  out 
of  his  sight.' 

" '  Pa  does  most  of  the  entertaining,'  says  Sedalia.  '  I 
reckon  pa  isn't  so  certain  that  the  company's  going  to  be  a 
success  after  all.' 

*' '  He  will  be  a  week  from  now,'  says  Enrico.  *  We're 
agoing  to  start  the  furnace  to-morrow.' 

"  Sure  enough,  they  started  up  the  furnace  next  morn- 
ing and  run  it  under  lock  and  key  for  three  days  steady. 
Sedalia  went  into  the  shed  once  to  see  how  things  were 
looking,  but  it  was  mighty  hot  and  uninteresting  and  some- 
how she  got  the  impression  that  she  was  interrupting  pro- 
ceedings, so  she  backed  out  again.  The  next  thing,  a  Scan- 
dinavian gent  with  no  eyebrows  to  speak  of  and  no  finger 
nails  at  all  came  down  from  Lead  City  to  stay  over  Sun- 
day. His  name  was  Nels  Brakke,  and  Enrico  told  Sedalia 
that  he  was  a  plaster-of-Paris  expert.  He  had  a  kit  of  tools 
with  him  and  early  in  the  morning  him  and  Enrico  and  the 
old  man  went  into  the  shed  and  locked  themselves  in.  Se- 
dalia wanted  in,  too,  but  the  old  man  told  her  she'd  better 
stick  close  to  the  house  and  keep  callers  away  from  nosing 
round.  After  a  while  she  heard  Enrico  shrieking  and 
whooping  like  a  mirthful  hyena  and  made  out  a  Scandi- 
navian bass  accompaniment  to  the  same  while  pa  was  using 
language  that  she  hadn't  heard  since  the  old  man  drove  the 
ox  wagon  over  the  trail  from  Missouri  and  struck  the  gumbo 
belt. 

"  All  morning  that  went  on,  and  you  can  bet  that  Sedalia's 
curiosity  was  stirred  a  plenty.  When  the  men  come  in  to 
dinner  she  questioned  them  pretty  close,  but  they  sort  of 


22          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

dodged  and  acted  silly.  Every  once  in  a  while  Enrico 
would  look  at  the  old  man  and  sort  of  choke  and  sputter  on 
his  victuals,  and  when  that  happened  Nels  would  snort  too, 
and  then  blush  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  being  bashful.  Pa 
would  look  as  savage  as  a  meat  ax  and  say  something  about 
cussed  fools  and  what  he'd  do  for  two  cents.  It  wasn't  no 
wonder  that  Sedalia  was  miffed,  and  when  they  started 
right  out  for  the  shed  again  as  soon  as  they  had  et  she  was 
hopping  mad.  Dick  Wade  come  round  about  three  o'clock 
with  his  campaign  buckboard,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a 
strong  sense  of  duty  she'd  have  gone  riding  with  him.  As 
it  was  she  was  mighty  sweet  to  him,  and  when  the  other 
boys  came  stringing  along,  as  per  usual,  she  kept  the  whole 
crowd  until  Enrico  had  to  sneak  home  through  the  draws 
with  Nels,  without  seeing  her. 

"  That  night  pa  gave  her  another  big  surprise.  When 
the  company  had  gone  he  put  a  couple  of  kettles  of  water 
on  the  stove  to  heat  and  hauled  the  big  washtub  into  the 
kitchen. 

" '  What  are  you  agoing  to  do,  pa  ? '  asks  Sedalia. 

'* '  By  gosh!  I'm  agoing  to  take  a  bath,'  says  he. 

"  Well,  Enrico  sort  of  squared  himself  the  next  day 
with  the  girl,  and  for  two  days  longer  him  and  pa  went  on 
experimenting.  Then  Enrico  told  Sedalia  he  reckoned  she 
was  right  about  him  working  too  hard.  '  I  notice  a  sense  of 
fullness  after  eating,'  he  says,  '  and  along  about  nine  or  ten 
o'clock  my  jaws  get  to  stretching  and  I'm  apt  to  keel  over 
and  lose  consciousness  for  several  hours.  I  don't  want  to 
scare  you,  but  I  think  I'd  better  take  a  few  days  off.' 

"  Sedalia  looked  at  him  kind  of  thoughtful.     '  I  was  look- 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  23 

ing  for  something  terrible  like  this  to  happen,'  she  says.  '  I 
s'pose  you'll  take  them  few  days  in  town,  where  you  can  get 
cheerful  society  to  break  up  this  here  sleeping  sickness.' 

" '  Now  you've  hurt  my  feelings/  says  Enrico.  '  No, 
ma'am !  I  just  thought  of  going  up  Red  Canon  for  a  few 
days  after  whitetail.  Pa  says  he'll  loan  me  the  wagon  for 
half  of  the  meat.' 

" '  Oh,  if  that's  all,  I'm  sorry  I  spoke,'  says  Sedalia. 
'  Don't  think  I  mistrust  you,  Enrico  dear.  It's  just  that 
the  way  you've  been  tearing  up  the  ground  lately  has  made 
me  a  mite  uneasy.  I  was  afraid  it  might  be  just  a  beautiful 
dream  and  I  was  about  due  to  wake  up.  Forgive  me, 
darling.' 

"  Enrico  forgave  her  and  started  off  on  his  hunting  trip 
that  afternoon.  He  was  back  again  in  a  couple  of  days. 
That  was  late  Thursday  night.  Friday  when  the  Her- 
mosilla  Hatchet  come  out  there  was  a  headline  clear  across 
the  front  page : 

PRIES  UP  PETRIFIED  PAGAN 

ENRICO  BILLINGS  BARES  BURIED  BACK  NUMBER  ON  BITTER 

WATER 

"  It  went  on  to  say  that  our  esteemed,  genial  and  popu- 
lar fellow  citizen,  Enrico  Billings,  had  made  a  discovery 
that  would  give  him  a  front-row  seat  among  the  most  dis- 
tinguished bone  hunters  and  fossil  sharps  of  this  or  any 
other  age  and  put  Bitter  Water  on  the  map  along  with  the 
celebrated  and  well-known  places,  whose  names  our  readers 
would  readily  recall,  that  were  comparatively  unknown  be- 
fore the  discoveries  that  made  them  famous.  Mr,  Billings, 


24          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

while  out  on  a  hunt  in  the  Red  Canon  country,  noticed 
something  white  sticking  up  out  of  the  ground  close  to 
Bitter  Water  Creek,  and  his  curiosity  being  excited  he  got 
off  his  horse  to  investigate,  and  with  the  aid  of  his  picket 
pin  succeeded  in  unearthing  an  almost  perfect  human  form 
that  the  action  of  unknown  elements  through  perhaps  thou- 
sands of  years  had  petrified  and  turned  into  stone.  With 
the  intelligence  and  perspicacity  that  distinguish  him,  Mr. 
Billings  at  once  brought  up  his  wagon  from  his  camp,  and 
with  superhuman  effort  skidded  this  mysterious  relic  of  pre- 
historic ages  up  into  the  box  and  hauled  it  back  with  him. 
It  can  now  be  seen  in  the  back  room  of  Billy  Morgan's  drug 
store  for  an  admission  fee  of  four  bits,  children  half  price, 
thus  giving  Hermosilla  the  opportunity  to  inspect  this 
unique  legacy  of  remote  ages  ahead  of  an  astounded  world. 
Ye  editor  has  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  it,  and  it  is  un- 
doubtedly the  remains  of  a  man,  but  does  not  seem  to  bear 
out  the  theory  that  there  was  giants  in  them  days,  being 
considerable  of  a  runt  and  scrawny  in  structure.  It  was 
found  lying  on  its  left  side  with  one  hand  pressed  to  the  pit 
of  its  stomach,  and  the  expression  of  its  face,  which  some- 
what resembles  a  chimpanzee's,  seems  to  show  that  its  last 
moments  was  not  happy.  Mr.  Billings,  who  has  devoted 
much  time  to  the  study  of  ethnology,  classifies  it  as  brachy- 
cephalic,  apparently  belonging  to  the  melanochroid  group, 
and  places  the  date  of  its  decease  somewhere  along  in  the 
late  Miocene  age;  but  our  readers  —  on  payment  of  four 
bits,  strictly  cash  —  can  judge  of  these  points  for  themselves. 
We  understand  that  Mr.  M.  E.  Warren  has  purchased  a 
half  interest  in  this  marvel.  Go  to  it,  boys ! 
"  You  can  talk  all  you  want  to  about  a  town  being  broke. 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          25 

Hermosilla  was  flat  busted  if  you  tried  to  collect  anything, 
but  all  the  same  there  wasn't  a  citizen  that  didn't  manage 
to  rustle  his  little  half-wheel  somewhere  and  come  a-running 
to  see  the  petrified  man.  Old  Man  Warren,  who  stood  at 
the  door  of  the  back  room  taking  in  the  coin,  had  both  of  his 
pants  pockets  loaded  down  to  that  extent  that  he  got  nervous 
about  his  suspenders,  and  Enrico,  inside  with  the  crowd, 
talked  himself  plumb  hoarse  answering  questions.  When 
Billy  Morgan  closed  up  at  supper  time  they  was  both  about 
tuckered  out. 

"  Pa  wanted  to  celebrate  a  little,  but  Enrico  got  him  into 
the  wagon  and  headed  for  home  as  soon  as  he  had  got  his 
mail.  The  old  man  hadn't  read  the  piece  in  the  paper  then. 
Enrico  told  him  that  he'd  be  along  late  after  he'd  et,  and 
then  went  on  down  the  street  to  the  Hatchet  office.  Joe 
Simms,  ye  ed,  was  cleaning  off  the  roller  of  the  Washing- 
ton hand  press.  He  grinned  when  he  saw  Enrico. 

" '  I  understand  from  the  latest  reports  that  it  pays  to 
advertise,'  he  says. 

"  '  It  sure  does ! '  says  Enrico.  '  I  come  here  to  prove  it 
to  you.'  He  pulled  out  a  neat  little  roll  of  bills  and  skinned 
it  down  real  liberal.  '  I  throw  in  some  empty  gratitude  for 
them  large,  fat,  tasty  words  that  you  put  in  my  mouth  too/ 
he  says. 

" '  Don't  name  it,'  says  Joe.  '  As  long  as  the  old  un- 
abridged and  the  Chambers'  cyclopedia  hang  together,  no 
friend  of  mine  is  agoing  to  suffer  from  lack  of  the  right 
dope  —  as  long  the  subject  ain't  between  G  and  Kidneys, 
which  volume  some  son  of  a  tinker  has  swiped  out  of  the 
office.  Much  obliged,  Enrico.  You  can  sure  count  on  the 
aid  and  comfort  of  the  local  press.  One  born  every  ten 


26  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

seconds,  ain't  there?  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  you  made  on 
this,  after  all.' 

'* '  My  inky-nosed  brother  is  operating  his  bazoo  with  two 
tongues/  says  Enrico. 

"'Ever  hear  of  the  Cardiff  Giant?'  asks  Joe.  'About 
twenty  years  ago  some  unscrupulous  persons  carved  him  out 
of  a  block  of  gypsum  and  claimed  they  had  found  him, 
digging  a  well.  They  fooled  about  the  whole  U.  S.  and 
made  a  big  batch  of  dough  out  of  him.' 

" '  You  don't  tell  me ! '  says  Enrico.  '  Now  ain't  that 
shocking!  You  mean  to  say  that  anybody  was  ever  low- 
down  enough  to  work  a  scheme  like  that?  Twenty  years 
ago,  eh  ?  Hm-m !  Twenty  years  is  a  long  time,  Joe.  Lots 
of  folks  can't  remember  that  far  back.' 

"'The  heft  don't  remember  back  twenty-four  hours, 
when  it  comes  to  certain  things,'  says  Joe.  '  I  wouldn't 
worry,  son/ 

"  Enrico  got  up.  *  I  don't  aim  to/  he  says.  '  But  there's 
one  thing  I  want  to  say  —  and  that's  that  our  brachycephalic 
bohunkus  wasn't  carved  out  of  no  gypsum,  nor  carved  out 
of  nothing.  So  long,  Joe ! ' 

"  '  So  long! '  says  Joe.     '  You  can  count  on  me/ 

"  Enrico  went  over  to  Fred  Willor's  and  slicked  up  and 
then  got  on  his  horse  and  rode  over  to  Warren's.  He  found 
pa  out  by  the  bars,  with  his  chin  on  the  top  pole  and  all  of 
the  gladness  gone  out  of  his  face. 

"  'What's  the  matter  ?  '  inquires  Enrico.  '  What  for  are 
you  meditating  out  here  ? ' 

" '  I  come  out  for  a  recess/  says  the  old  man.  '  I'm  tired 
of  answering  fool  questions,  and  if  you  want  to  go  in  and 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          27 

spell  me  with  that  girl  I'll  borrow  your  horse  a  while  afore 
you  unsaddle.' 

"  '  What  do  you  want  the  horse  for  ? ' 

"  Pa  come  out  with  a  full-breath  bust :  '  I'm  agoing  to 
ride  to  town,  by  gosh!  and  mop  up  the  Hatchet  premises 
with  that  cockeyed,  knock-kneed,  type-slinging  son  of  a  soup 
bone,  Joe  Simms!  The  slab-sided,  slick-scribbling,  punkin- 
subsidized  scalawag !  I'll  learn  him !  I'll  show  the  oyster- 
supper-boosting,  comp-grabbing,  council-grafting,  free- 
drinks  deadhead  a  thing  or  two!  He'll  need  patent  out- 
sides  as  well  as  insides  when  I  get  through  with  him! 
"Considerable  of  a  runt  and  scrawny  in  structure/'  eh? 
Face  like  a  chimpanzee,  is  it  ?  And  my  own  daughter  read- 
ing it  aloud,  account  of  me  having  mislaid  my  specs !  If  I 
don't  jam  that  slayfooted,  sticky-fingered  faker  into  the 
wastebasket  and  wreck  the  office,  I'm  as  big  a  liar  as  he  is ! ' 

"  '  There,  there ! '  says  Enrico ;  '  you'll  feel  better  now, 
and  there  won't  be  no  need  of  a  massacre.  Joe  means  well, 
but  he  didn't  know  that  we'd  be  so  sensitive  about  the  per- 
sonal looks  of  our  discovery.  He  may  have  thought  that 
folks  would  be  more  interested  if  they  thought  it  was 
something  horrible.' 

"  '  Am  I  a  back  number  ? '  shouts  pa. 

"  '  Somebody'll  hear  you  if  you  holler  thataway,'  says 
Enrico.  '  If  you're  a  back  number  you've  done  mighty  well 
for  one  afternoon's  work.  You  study  on  that  a  while  and 
cool  off,  and  I'll  go  in  and  see  Sedalia.' 

"  So  he  went  in  to  see  Sedalia  —  went  with  a  whoop  and 
threw  his  hat  up  in  the  air  and  then  stood  with  his  arms 
open,  waiting  for  her  to  run  into  them  and  nestle.  Pretty 


28          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

soon  he  got  tired  of  waiting  and  took  a  step  toward  her,  but 
she  flicked  him  back  with  the  dish  towel  and  backed  that 
play  with  a  cold,  stony  look  that  the  petrified  man  couldn't 
have  beat. 

"  '  We're  agoing  to  have  a  little  talk  first/  she  says,  point- 
ing to  a  chair.  '  Pick  up  your  hat  and  sit  down  there  and 
behave.  I've  missed  you  something  terrible  and  I'm  so  glad 
to  see  you  again  that  I  can't  hardly  act  proper,  but  I'm  going 
to  try.  What's  this  story  I  hear  about  you  finding  a  petri- 
fied man  ? ' 

" '  This  here  is  certainly  a  blow  to  me,'  says  Enrico ;  '  but 
I'll  tell  you.  You  see  there  was  some  whitetail  tracks  lead- 
ing out  of  the  canon  and  over  toward  Bitter  Water,  and  as 
I  was  a-following  'em  I  seen  something  sort  of  sticking 
up  out  of  the  ground,  and  my  curiosity  being  excited ' 

"  '  I  know  all  that  by  heart,'  Sedalia  says  calmly.  *  Now 
you  tell  me  one  thing :  You  say  you  dug  up ' 

" '  The  luckiest  find  I  ever  made  in  my  life,  excepting 
when  I  found  you,'  says  Enrico.  '  Pa  and  me  has  taken  in 
close  to  ninety  dollars  already,  and  we'll  double  that  to- 
morrow, and What  for  are  you  pointing  your  finger 

at  me,  honey  ? ' 

"'Who  buried  what  you  dug  up?'  says  honey.  'You 
tell  me  that,  Enrico  Billings ! ' 

" '  Darling,'  says  Enrico,  '  I  ain't  but  twenty-five  years 
old  and  you  can't  expect  me  to  be  posted  on  what  happened 
twenty-five  centuries  ago.  If  it  was  something  halfway 
recent  I  might  hunt  up  the  undertaker  and  get  you  a  list 
of  the  pall-bearers,  but  you're  asking  too  much.' 

" '  How  much  did  pa  pay  you  for  his  half  interest,  and 
where  did  he  get  the  money  ? '  she  goes  on. 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS           29 

"  '  Sho ! '  says  Enrico ;  '  ain't  pa  and  me  partners  ?  He 
furnishes  the  wagon,  come  to  that.' 

"  'What  did  pa  use  two  boxes  of  axle  grease  for  a-Sun- 
day,  and  how  did  he  get  that  plaster  in  his  hair,  and  what 
were  you  men  laughing  about,  and  why  did  pa  take  a  bath  ? ' 

" '  Why,  sweetheart,  don't  you  think  pa  would  know 
without  me  guessing  ? '  says  Enrico.  *  Why  not  ask  pa  ? ' 

" '  I  have,'  she  says.  '  So  you've  give  up  hard  work  and 
the  plaster-of-Paris  business?' 

"  '  Why,  no,  pretty  one ! '  says  Enrico.  '  Whatever  put 
that  into  your  dear  little  head?  Far  from  it  and  quite  the 
contrary.  The  plaster  business  takes  capital,  though,  and 
we'd  just  used  up  all  the  capital  I  had.  We  was  just  a-talk- 
ing  and  wondering  what  we  would  do,  when  here  this  petri- 
fied man  drops  on  us  from  a  clear  sky.  By  the  time  I've 
taken  him  round  a  while  we'll  have  capital  to  start  the 
plaster  business  just  a-whooping.  I  reckon  I'll  start  out 
about  Tuesday  and  work  the  Hills  camps  and  towns.' 

"  Sedalia  got  up  and  walked  over  to  her  bedroom.  '  I 
hope  you'll  have  a  pleasant  journey,'  she  says.  *  Good-by ! ' 

"  She  slipped  into  the  bedroom  and  shut  and  locked  the 
door.  Enrico  tried  to  talk  to  her  through  the  keyhole,  but 
the  line  seemed  to  be  out  of  order  and  he  got  discouraged, 
and  when  pa  came  in  and  tried  his  hand  at  remonstrating, 
with  equal  poor  luck,  he  gave  up  and  went  back  to  town. 

"  Pa  showed  up  at  the  drug  store  in  time  for  the  opening 
of  business  next  morning  and  didn't  bring  no  glad  tidings 
with  him.  Sedalia,  seemed  like,  didn't  approve  of  the  pet- 
rified man  and  hadn't  no  idea  of  connecting  herself  with 
him  by  marriage,  and  all  bets  based  on  that  proposition  was 
declared  off.  That  was  about  the  size  and  dimensions  of 


30          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

it,  pa  said.  '  What's  more,'  says  pa,  '  she  won't  hear  to  me 
touring  the  Hills  with  you,  nor  no  other  place.  I  reckon 
I'll  have  to  be  a  silent  partner  in  this  here,  Enrico.' 

"  Enrico  said  he'd  talk  it  over  with  her  that  evening,  and 
right  away  him  and  pa  got  too  busy  to  pursue  the  subject. 
They  had  to  go  out  to  dinner  one  at  a  time  while  Billy 
Morgan  spelled  them,  the  rush  was  such;  and  at  supper 
time  a  bunch  of  the  boys  from  the  Circle-Bar  rode  in,  ar- 
riving simultaneous  with  five  hand  cars  full  of  micks  from 
the  grading  camp  at  the  falls  and  a  message  to  pa  from  Se- 
dalia  saying  that  she'd  shut  up  the  chickens  and  gone  a-vis- 
iting  for  a  few  days  with  a  neighbor  and  for  him  to  feed 
the  cat  and  there  was  bread  enough  to  do  him  in  the 
oven. 

" '  She  don't  say  where  she's  gone  visiting,'  says  Enrico. 

" '  No,'  says  Pa.  '  It  might  be  with  Mis'  Gibson  at  Ash 
Creek,  or  it  might  be  the  Wolcotts  at  Cascade,  or  the  Low- 
dens  on  Coffee  Flat  —  or  anywheres.  Wherever  it  is,  it's 
my  notion  that  she  won't  be  back  until  this  here  show  is 
out  of  town.  These  here  fool  women ! ' 

" '  Don't  say  that/  says  Enrico.  '  Sedalia  ain't  no  fool 
—  and  that's  the  trouble.  She's  too  high-minded  and  white- 
souled  and  tender-conscienced  to  understand  business,  that's 
all,  bless  her !  What  will  we  do  now,  pa  ? ' 

" '  I  reckon  you'd  better  light  out  for  the  upper  Hills,'  says 
pa.  '  They  say  absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder,  and 
I  can  keep  you  posted  while  you're  gone.  We'll  have  an 
evening  performance  here  for  the  boys,  and  continuous  to- 
morrow, and  by  that  time  Hermosilla  will  be  about  cleaned 
up.  Anyway,  we  can  make  a  return  date  for  any  small 
change  we've  missed.' 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  31 

" '  I  don't  know,'  says  Enrico.  '  They  say  out  of  sight, 

out  of  mind,  and  if  Sedalia  keeps  set  as  she  is Well,  I 

guess  I'll  take  a  chance  and  see  what  happens.' 

"  Several  things  happened.  On  Monday  Enrico  hired 
Lou  Green  and  Sam  Whitacre  for  assistant  lecturers  and 
ticket-office  clerks  and,  with  the  Petrified  Pagan  rolled  up 
in  a  tarp  in  brand-new  wagon,  hit  the  trail  acquiring  capital 
as  he  went.  Wednesday  Sedalia  got  back  from  her  visit 
and  rolled  up  her  sleeves  to  clean  house  after  pa.  Friday 
the  Hatchet  noted  Dick  Wade  had  returned  from  his  can- 
vass of  the  Oelrichs  Precinct  and  reported  that  according 
to  conservative  estimates  a  majority  of  no  less  than  thirty 
votes  would  be  rolled  up  for  the  Democratic  ticket  in  Oel- 
richs alone.  The  same  evening  Dick  sat  on  the  porch  of  the 
M.  E.  Warren  ranch  and  done  his  level  best  to  make  Miss 
Sedalia  Warren  like  him.  Taking  it  all  round  he  seemed 
to  be  making  a  tolerable  good  job  of  it.  Anyway,  pa  got 
uneasy  enough  to  join  the  merry  group  and  turn  the  con- 
versation to  politics.  When  Dick  finally  went  pa  told 
daughter  that  he  was  ashamed  of  her. 

" '  Carrying  on  with  a  no-account  office  seeker ! '  he  says. 

"  '  That  ain't  all,'  says  Sedalia.  '  He's  an  officeholder  and 
an  office  getter,  and  he's  agoing  to  be  our  next  sheriff  and 
a  terror  to  evildoers  and  frauds  and  such.  I  don't  know 
whether  he'd  let  his  wife's  relations  stand  between  him  and 
his  sworn  duty  —  if  he  had  a  wife  —  but  from  what  he 
said  I  don't  believe  he  would.' 

"  '  What  did  he  say  ? '  asks  pa.  '  Anything  about  the  pet- 
rified man  ? ' 

" '  Nothing  particular/  says  Sedalia.  '  He's  got  some 
sense;  and  when  he  seen  the  subject  was  unpleasant  to  me 


32          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

he  dropped  it.  But  I  think  he  was  real  sorry  that  you  was 
mixed  up  in  it.' 

"  *  Huh ! '  says  the  old  man  with  a  grin.  '  I  guess  he  is ! 
Know  how  much  Enrico  took  out  of  Buffalo  Gap  ? ' 

" '  I  ain't  interested  in  Enrico,'  she  says. 

"  '  You've  changed  your  mind  a  heap,'  says  pa. 

" '  You've  changed  yours  a  heap  about  Dick,'  she  says. 
'  I  don't  aim  to  be  undutiful,  but  I  wish  you'd  let  Dick  and 
me  alone.' 

"  The  way  she  said  it,  pa  judged  it  best  to  say  nothing, 
but  he  kept  up  a  devil  of  a  thinking.  Next  day  he  brought 
Sedalia  a  letter  and  package  from  Enrico,  but  she  didn't 
open  either  of  them  —  not  while  pa  was  round  anyway. 
Along  in  the  afternoon  Dick  made  another  call,  but  pa 
didn't  talk  so  violent  as  he  had  the  day  before,  although  he 
gave  Dick  to  understand  that  he  was  too  numerous,  about 
as  plain  as  a  man  can  without  saying  much.  All  the  same, 
he  wrote  to  Enrico  that  Sedalia  acted  as  if  she  was  tickled 
to  death  to  get  his  letter,  and  he  allowed  that  she  was  weak- 
ening. 

"  Enrico  was  at  Rapid  by  that  time,  doing  a  land-office 
business  and  sending  drafts  to  pa  regular.  Joe  Simms,  the 
Hatchet  man,  looking  over  his  exchanges,  seen  that  his  piece 
about  the  Bitter  Water  Back  Number  was  copied  all  over 
the  territory,  and  even  the  Sioux  City  and  Omaha  papers 
had  it  in.  The  Sioux  City  Journal  did  mention  the  Cardiff 
Giant  with  insinuations,  and  The  Fargo  Argus  joshed  a 
considerable,  but  mostly  the  newspaper  boys  took  a  sort  of 
pride  in  the  find  and  gave  it  a  good  send-off,  especially  after 
Professor  Thornby,  of  the  School  of  Mines,  come  out  in  an 
interview  and  indorsed  the  Miocene  theory  to  the  extent  of 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  S3 

two  columns.  Enrico  stayed  quite  a  while  in  Rapid  and 
then  went  on  to  Deadwood,  and  the  report  he  sent  from 
there  put  a  grin  a  foot  wide  under  pa's  whiskers. 

"  All  the  same,  Dick  Wade  worried  pa  a  heap.  Dick 
hadn't  said  nothing  to  him  about  Enrico,  only  to  ask  kind 
of  particular  when  he  was  a-coming  back.  He  seemed  real 
anxious  about  that  —  but  there  wasn't  hardly  a  day  that  he 
didn't  get  round  to  sit  a  while  with  Sedalia,  and  Sedalia 
wasn't  never  too  busy  to  give  him  a  little  time.  Enrico  kept 
a-writing  to  her  steady,  and  there  was  most  as  many  pack- 
ages as  letters  from  him,  but  she  never  let  on  to  pa  about 
them.  Then  came  election,  and  Dick  was  elected  sheriff. 

"  Pa  went  to  town  to  vote  against  him  of  course,  and 
stopped  over  for  the  returns.  Next  morning  he  found  an- 
other letter  from  Enrico  in  his  pocket,  that  he'd  overlooked 
in  the  excitement.  Enrico  was  at  Lead  and  allowed  that 
there  wasn't  no  falling  off  in  attendance  —  so  far,  and  that 
the  receipts  was  considerable  over  the  expenditures.  He 
mentioned  that  he  had  sent  fifty  dollars  to  Nels  Brakke 
from  Rapid  and  had  just  found  out  that  Nels  went  on  a 
big  spree  as  soon  as  he  got  it,  and  then  resigned  from  the 
foundry,  observing  that  he  had  a  soft  snap  and  was  going 
to  work  for  Nels  henceforth.  After  which  he  left  town. 

"  Then  Enrico  says :  '  You  keep  on  telling  me  that  Se- 
dalia is  a-weakening,  but  I  don't  see  no  signs  of  it.  She 
don't  answer  my  letters,  and  if  them  little  tricks  I've  been 
sending  has  found  favor  in  her  eyes  I  ain't  got  no  means 
of  telling  it.  I've  a  big  notion  to  take  old  Hard-pan  back 
to  Hermosilla  for  that  return  date  right  away,  for  I'm  a  heap 
easier  financially  than  I  am  in  my  mind.  What  in  thunder 
makes  you  think  she's  weakening? ' 


34          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

"  Pa  put  the  letter  back  in  his  pocket  and  braced  Sedalia. 
His  hair  was  a-pulling  considerable,  but  he  made  out  to 
speak  soft  and  gentle.  '  Little  girl,'  he  says, '  what  for  don't 
you  write  to  poor  Enrico  and  cheer  him  up  a  few?  There 
he  is,  sad  and  lonely,  long  miles  away,  a-toiling  and  a-slaving 
to  pile  up  money  for  you,  a-writing  to  you  every  day  and 
a-sending  you  fond  tokens  of  affection,  and  you  don't  let 
out  a  grunt.  I  ain't  asking  you  to  slop  over  or  take  back 
anything,  but  that  boy's  big,  warm  heart  is  a-breaking,  and 
the  least  you  could  do  would  be  to  act  polite  like  a  lady. 
Now  ain't  it?' 

"  '  See  here,  pa ! '  says  Sedalia.  '  You  can  tell  that  poor, 
sad,  lonely,  broken-hearted  partner  of  yours  that  he's  wast- 
ing postage,  paper,  wrappings  and  string  sending  letters  and 
tokens  of  affections  to  me.  I  can  use  wood  in  the  stove 
just  as  well,  and  get  more  heat.  If  he  gets  too  lonesome 
with  his  petrified  man  maybe  he  can  dig  up  a  petrified 
woman.  By  the  way,  I'm  going  riding  with  Dick  Wade 
this  afternoon  and  you  may  have  to  get  your  own  supper.' 

"  Pa  didn't  say  nothing  to  that  in  her  hearing,  but  he 
put  out  for  the  barn,  his  mouth  shut  hard,  his  eyes  popping, 
and  his  general  complexion  between  a  warm  red  and  a  rich 
purple.  He  walked  quick,  but  it  was  just  as  well  the  barn 
wasn't  no  farther  off.  There  was  an  innocent  little  calf 
a-standing  chewing  its  cud  in  his  line  of  march,  and  that 
calf  caught  a  sight  of  pa's  face  and  gave  one  blat  of  terror 
and  streaked  for  the  Battle  Mountain  Range,  sailing  over  a 
five-foot  pole  fence  as  if  it  wasn't  nothing  but  a  line  chalked 
on  the  ground.  What  pa  said  in  the  barn  didn't  set  fire 
to  the  fodder,  but  it  would  have  sure  made  an  insurance 
company  nervous.  Then  he  had  a  long  spell  of  thinking, 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  35 

and  as  a  result  he  wrote  to  Enrico  that  there  wasn't  no 
need  nor  sense  in  him  starting  back  as  long  as  public  inter- 
est in  prehistoric  relics  was  unabated. 

" '  The  reason  I  think  she's  weakening  is  that  I  know 
blame  well  she  is/  he  says.  '  Just  for  one  thing,  to-day  she 
made  some  remarks  about  you  seeking  the  society  of  other 
women  up  there  that  looked  like  she  was  a-getting  worried. 
I  don't  say  she  ain't  mad  yet,  but  she'll  get  over  that  all  the 
quicker  if  you  stay  away  and  quit  writing.' 

"  A  week  later  Jack  Skinner,  a  well-known  ranchman  of 
Point-of-Rocks,  Custer  County,  was  a-riding  after  horses 
on  French  Creek  when  his  horse  stumbled  on  something 
white  sticking  up  out  of  the  ground  and  throwed  Mr.  Skinner 
over  his  head.  When  he  come  to,  Mr.  Skinner  investigated 
and  found  that  the  cause  of  the  accident  was  the  petrified 
remains  of  some  antediluvian  aborigine  what  had  remained 
hidden  for  uncounted  ages  until  this  fortuitous  chance  hap- 
pening brought  it  to  light.  Mr.  N.  Brakke,  a  mining  man 
from  the  upper  hills,  was  with  Mr.  Skinner  at  the  time  and 
helped  dig  up  the  ancient  stiff,  which  is  now  on  exhibition 
in  Paul  Klemman's  wareroom  for  twenty-five  cents  per 
exhib. 

"  That  was  in  the  Custer  Chronicle,  where  Joe  Simms, 
the  Hatchet  man,  seen  it.  Joe  clipped  out  the  piece,  but  he 
didn't  print  it,  and  he  kept  his  mouth  shut  about  it.  He 
didn't  say  nothing  when,  soon  after  that,  a  prominent  sod- 
buster,  of  Vermilion,  while  digging  a  well,  struck  his  pick 
into  what  proved  to  be  the  shoulderblade  of  a  lapidified  hu- 
man form  that  a  Swedish  scientist  by  the  name  of  Brakke 
pronounced  a  genuine  antique.  All  Joe  done  was  to  grin 
and  paste  the  clippings  in  the  back  of  his  daybook. 


36          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

"  Pa  still  kept  watch  faithful,  but  what  he  seen  of  Sedalia 
and  Dick  didn't  put  no  flesh  on  his  bones.  Every  time  he 
mentioned  anything  about  Enrico,  the  girl  would  talk  about 
Dick  Wade;  and  she'd  talk  about  Dick  Wade  if  he  didn't 
mention  Enrico.  The  way  she  primped  for  Dick  was  as 
sinful  as  it  was  unnecessary,  and  about  an  hour  before  Dick 
come  —  and  he  was  coming  tolerable  regular  —  she'd  act  as 
restless  as  a  pea  in  a  skillet  and  look  out  of  the  window 
every  twenty  seconds  or  so  to  see  if  he  wasn't  looming  on 
the  horizon. 

"  Finally  pa  concluded  that  he'd  watch  the  horizon  some 
himself,  and  as  soon  as  Dick  loomed  pa  aimed  a  little  to 
the  right  and  low  and  cut  loose.  Dick  stopped  short.  Pa 
whanged  away  again  and  knocked  up  the  dust  about  six 
inches  to  the  left.  Dick  hollered  something,  but  pa  couldn't 
hear  just  what  he  said.  What  Dick  heard  next  was  a  loud 
humming  noise  right  over  his  head,  and  he  judged  it  best 
to  turn  his  horse  round  and  go  back  to  town.  Not  that  he 
was  scared  —  he  wasn't  naturally  scary,  Dick  wasn't;  but 
he  had  awful  good  sense  about  some  things.  Pa  chuckled 
to  himself  and,  leaving  the  old  gun  cached  in  the  plum 
bushes,  he  went  back  to  the  house  and  found  Sedalia  putting 
on  her  best  hat. 

"  '  Where  are  you  going,  girl  ? '  he  asks. 

"  '  I'm  going  to  town/  says  Sedalia,  '  where  it  will  be  safe 
for  folks  to  see  me,'  she  says.  '  I'm  free,  white  and  sweet 
nineteen;  and  I  claim  I  can  pick  my  company  without  the 
aid  or  consent  of  any  parent  whatever.  A  girl  may  be  good- 
looking  and  attractive,  which  I  don't  say  I'm  not,  but  I 
don't  want  any  handicap  of  being  known  as  a  death  risk  at 
five  hundred  yards.' 


37 

"  '  Don't  talk  foolish,  girl,  and  don't  drive  your  old  father 
to  extreme  measures,'  says  pa. 

" '  I'll  drive  myself  —  or  I'll  ride  Patsy,'  says  she. 

*' '  Well,  I'll  drive  you  in/  says  pa,  and  he  hikes  out  to  the 
barn  and  turns  her  Patsy  horse  and  one  of  the  team  horses 
loose  on  the  range.  Then  he  climbs  the  only  other  horse 
there  was  left  and  put  out  for  town  himself.  '  By  gosh ! ' 
he  says ;  '  I've  got  to  get  Enrico  back  if  he  has  to  leave  a 
thousand  dollars  a  day  receipts.  Here's  where  I  burn  the 
wires  between  this  and  Central  City,  and  if  I  can't  keep 
Dick  stood  off  till  the  boy  gets  here  I'll  buy  a  couple  more 
boxes  of  axle  grease  and  eat  'em.' 

"  He  didn't  do  no  telegraphing,  though,  as  it  happened. 
About  the  first  person  he  seen  in  town  was  Dick  Wade. 
Dick  didn't  make  no  move,  forward  or  back,  but  waited  for 
him  to  come  up.  '  Howdy,  Dick ! '  says  pa.  '  Why  don't 
you  come  to  see  us  ? ' 

' '  I  figure  on  doing  so,  as  soon  as  the  road  is  open,'  says 
Dick.  '  I  left  my  opener  at  home  the  last  time,  but  I  don't 
aim  to  be  so  forgetful  the  next  time/  he  says.  '  How  are 
you  feeling,  Mr.  Warren?' 

"  *  Poorly,  sir,  poorly ! '  says  pa.  '  My  right  eye  is 
a-troubling  me  and  my  hand  and  arm  ain't  so  steady  as  I 
could  wish.  They'll  improve  though.  Yes,  they'll  improve, 
all  right.  Health  is  a  great  thing,  Dick.  Always  take  care 
of  your  health  and  keep  out  of  unhealthy  places.' 

"  '  That's  good  advice/  says  Dick.  '  Jails  is  generally  con- 
ceded to  be  unhealthy,  but  some  folks  don't  seem  to  care 
whether  they  keep  out  of  jail  or  not.  How  is  Miss  Se- 
dalia?' 

" '  Sort  of  out  of  sorts/  says  pa.    '  I  guess  she'll  be  all 


38  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

right  pretty  soon  though.  Enrico  Billings  is  a-coming  back. 
She  ain't  been  like  the  same  girl  since  he  went.' 

"Dick  pricked  up  his  ears.  'Coming  back,  is  he?'  says 
he.  '  When  do  you  expect  him  ? ' 

" '  Why,  most  any  minute,'  says  pa.     '  You  see ' 

"  He  stopped  short.  There  come  a  squeal  of  brakes  from 
the  grade  the  other  side  of  the  creek,  and  here  was  a  cov- 
ered wagon  a-sliding  down  to'  the  bridge  with  BITTER 
WATER  PETRIFIED  MAN  in  big  letters  along  the  can- 
vas! 

"  '  By  gosh ! '  says  pa,  slapping  his  leg ;  '  there's  Enrico 
now!' 

"  Pa  set  off  hotfoot  for  the  bridge,  and  Dick  Wade 
watched  him  for  a  minute  and  then  struck  off  down  the 
street  and  went  into  Doc  Minnifer's  office.  Doc  was  busy 
with  a  patient,  so  Dick  sat  down  in  the  waiting  room  and 
waited,  with  one  eye  on  Billy  Morgan's  drug  store,  which 
he  could  see  from  the  window.  Pretty  soon  the  covered 
wagon  drove  up  to  Billy's  side  door  and  Enrico  and  pa  and 
Billy  and  a  couple  of  other  men  lifted  out  something  long 
and  hefty  rolled  up  in  a  tarpoleon,  and  carried  it  in.  Dick 
Wade  grinned  and  licked  his  lips.  Then  he  rolled  him  a 
cigarette  and  continued  to  wait. 

"  Ten  minutes  from  that,  Enrico  and  pa  come  out  of  the 
drug  store  together. 

" '  I  tell  you  I  was  just  agoing  to  telegraph  you,'  says  pa. 
'  I  ain't  to  blame.  I. allowed  she  was  letting  him  come  round 
just  out  of  pastime.' 

"  '  Sure ! '  says  Enrico,  kind  of  sarcastic.  '  It  would  have 
been  a  pity  to  have  took  my  mind  off  of  business  when  I 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  39 

was  doing  so  well.  I'm  glad  I  got  that  note.  Whoever  it 
was  wrote  it  was  a  friend  of  mine.' 

"  '  What  did  it  say  ? '  asks  pa. 

"  '  A  plenty ! '  says  Enrico.  '  Just  that  unless  I  thought 
more  of  my  stone  man  than  I  did  of  my  flesh-and-blood  girl 
I'd  better  hustle  back  afore  Dick  Wade  got  her.' 

"  '  I  wish  I  knew  who  wrote  it,'  says  pa.  '  I'd  sure  make 
the  no-name,  black-hand  backbiter  hard  to  resuscitate.  It's 
a  lie!  I  don't  say  that  shooting  at  Dick  was  good  policy, 
but  as  soon  as  I  seen  I'd  made  a  mistake  and  there  was  a 
chance  of  anything  happening  I  sent  for  you  —  or  I  was 
agoing  to.  That's  no  lie.' 

"  They  was  just  passing  the  Hatchet  office  and  Joe  Simms 
rapped  on  the  window  and  beckoned  hard  for  them  to  come 
in.  Enrico  shook  his  head,  but  Joe  made  more  signs,  so 
he  went  in,  pa  trailing  along  after.  '  I'm  in  a  rush,  Joe,' 
says  Enrico.  '  I'll  look  in  again  later  on.' 

4< '  I  won't  keep  you  a  minute,'  says  Joe.  '  I  seen  you 
only  just  come  in  a  little  while  ago,  so  it's  likely  you  don't 
know  about  all  your  brother  capitalists  and  big  bugs  that's 
just  arrived  on  a  special  car  from  Chicago  with  the  V.  P., 
the  G.  P.  A.,  the  G.  F.  A.  and  other  prominent  initials  of 
the  F.  E.' 

" '  I  didn't  hear  of  it/  says  Enrico.  '  Much  obliged  for 
informing  me.  Tell  'em  I'm  sorry  I  was  too  busy  to  see 
'em  and  I  hope  they'll  make  themselves  at  home.  See  you 
later.' 

"  '  Sit  down,  dog-gone  you ! '  says  Joe.  '  Give  me  time 
to  say  a  word.  The  whole  gang  is  in  the  Eagle-Bird  club- 
room  right  now,  and  I  want  to  take  you  over  and  introduce 


49          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

you.  I'm  on  the  entertainment  committee  and  I  want  to 
entertain  them  with  a  private  view  of  your  Paleozoic  Piute.' 

" '  See  here,  Joe  Simms,'  says  pa,  breaking  in,  '  a  joke's  a 
joke  and  I  can  take  one  with  the  next  fellow,  but  when  you 
get  to  talking  about  Piutes,  with  personal  applications,  I'll 
be  gol-swizzled  if ' 

"  *  Pa/  says  Enrico,  '  you  take  a  tumble  to  yourself  and 
hush.  Joe  didn't  mean  nothing  personal,  and  you're  delay- 
ing the  game/ 

"  '  What's  devouring  him  ? '  asks  Joe.  '  Well,  anyway, 
it's  up  to  us  to  show  these  gentlemen  our  manufactures  and 
industries  and  enterprises,  and  you've  brought  back  yours 
right  in  the  nick  of  time  before  such  is  a  common  spectacle 
and ' 

"  Enrico  interrupts  him.  '  What  do  you  mean  by  "  manu- 
factures "  and  "  common  spectacles  "  ? '  says  he. 

" '  I  thought  you  was  keeping  posted  on  the  market/  says 
Joe.  '  Up  to  date  there's  about  eighteen  perfectly  preserved 
petrified  persons  been  discovered,  and  more  a-coming.  It's 
got  so  a  rancher  can't  ride  out  after  stock  nowheres  without 
his  horse  kicking  against  a  petrified  shoulder  blade  or  some- 
thing, and  if  he  digs  a  well  it's  an  even  break  whether  he 
strikes  water  or  a  remarkable  object  of  scientific  interest. 
Look  over  them  clippings,  and  while  you're  doing  that  I'll 
go  and  tell  the  crowd.  Over  at  the  drug  store,  ain't  it  ?  ' 

"  Without  waiting  for  an  answer  Joe  lit  out  for  the  Eagle- 
Bird  clubroom.  Pa  sat  with  his  jaw  sagging  while  Enrico 
run  his  eye  through  the  notices  of  discoveries. 

" '  Well/  says  Enrico  at  last,  '  I'm  agoing  to  see  Sedalia. 
It  looks  as  if  there  were  a  lot  of  fake  fossils  being  exhumed 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          41 

and  as  if  that  squarehead,  Nels  Brakke,  was  largely  re- 
sponsible for  the  outrageous  fraud  on  a  credulous  public. 
But  we'll  talk  that  over.  You  can  go  up  to  Billy  Morgan's 
and  do  the  honors  if  you  want.  I'm  agoing  to  see  Sedalia 
before  Dick  Wade ' 

"  '  Enrico  Billings  in  there  ? '  somebody  hollers.  The  next 
thing  in  busts  Billy  Morgan  panting  for  breath  and  with  the 
sweat  rolling  down  his  red  face. 

" '  Enrico,'  says  he,  '  that  blamed  saphead,  Dick  Wade,  is 
a-holding  an  inquest  on  your  petrified  man  and  I  reckon  it 
will  be  a  pious  idea  for  you  to  attend  as  a  witness.' 

"  It  seemed  like  that  about  a  minute  after  Enrico  and  pa 
had  left  the  drug  store  Dick  Wade  and  Doc  Minnifer  ar- 
rived there,  looking  mighty  important.  '  Billy,'  says  Dick, 
'  it  has  come  to  my  official  notice,  as  duly  elected  and  quali- 
fied and  holding-over  coroner  of  this  here  county,  that  you 
have  here  on  these  premises  the  corpse  delicti  of  a  person 
to  the  deponent  unknown,  the  cause  of  whose  decease  is  also 
unknown,  and  which  was  found  by  one  Enrico  Billings 
within  the  borders  and  jurisdiction  of  the  county  aforesaid. 
Me  and  doc  are  here,  ex  officio,  to  view  the  said  remains  and 
to  take  such  steps  as  we  may  deem  necessary.  In  the  back 
room,  ain't  it  ?  ' 

"  '  It's  in  the  back  room,  but  I  don't  know  about  you  see- 
ing it  right  now,'  says  Billy.  '  Enrico  and  Old  Man  Warren 
didn't  figure  on  opening  the  show  until  to-morrow.  Better 
wait  until  one  of  them  gets  back.  I  guess  it  will  be  all  right 
then.' 

"  '  Billy,'  says  Wade,  '  this  here  is  the  law,  and  don't  you 


42 

monkey  with  the  law  or  put  no  obstructions  in  its  way.  We 
are  agoing  to  sit  on  these  remains  right  now  —  not  to-mor- 
row nor  yet  ten  minutes  from  now.' 

" '  You  want  to  sit  as  bad  as  a  broody  hen,'  says  Billy. 
'What  do  you  figure  on  hatching?' 

"  '  Never  you  mind ! '  says  Dick.  '  You  remember  I'm 
coroner  until  I'm  inaugurated  sheriff  in  March.  Stand 
aside,  Billy !  Come  on,  doc ! ' 

"  He  pushed  past  Billy,  and  doc  followed  him  into  the 
back  room,  where  the  petrified  man  was  reposing  on  a  plat- 
form that  had  been  built  for  it.  Dick  pulled  the  tarpoleon 
off  it,  at  the  same  time  removing  his  hat,  and  doc  took  his 
old  lid  off  likewise.  It  was  sure  a  solemn-looking  object. 
In  life  it  might  have  been  a  man  of  about  five  foot  nothing 
much,  with  thin,  knobby  legs  and  arms  and  kind  of  humped- 
shouldered.  Its  features  were  sort  of  doubtful,  but  you 
could  easy  make  'em  out,  and  the  chin  was  long,  like  there 
was  kind  of  whiskers  on  it.  It  laid  sidewise  and  one  knee 
was  a  little  drawed  up.  All  over,  it  was  kind  of  rough- 
skinned  and  stained  greenish  here  and  there.  Billy  Morgan 
pointed  out  the  toenails  and  finger  nails,  which  was  real  dis- 
tinct, except  on  one  hand. 

"  '  He  looks  natural,  don't  he  ? '  says  Billy. 

"  '  I  suppose  there  ain't  no  doubt  of  him  being  dead,  doc?  '* 
says  Dick  Wade. 

"  Doc  tried  to  dig  his  thumb  into  an  arm.  '  I  guess  the 
ordinary  tests  ain't  to  be  relied  on,'  he  says.  '  All  the  same 
I  wouldn't  hesitate  to  say  that  he  was  totally  defunct ;  in 
fact,  I'd  stake  my  professional  reputation  on  it.  The  rigor 
mortis  is  unmistakable.' 

" '  In  that  case  we've  got  to  find  out  what  done  it,'  says 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  43 

Wade.  '  There's  a  dent  in  his  cabeza  that  seems  to  point 
to  foul  play,  but  he's  badly  pitted  and  it  might  be  smallpox. 
We  hadn't  ought  to  take  chances  of  an  epidemic  of  smallpox 
in  this  community,  -had  we,  doc  ?  ' 

"  Doc  clawed  his  whiskers.  '  Hard  to  tell  what  it  is  with- 
out an  autopsy,'  he  said.  '  The  way  his  leg  is  drawed  up  and 
his  hand  pressed  to  his  abdomen  is  symptomatic  of  cholera,' 
he  says.  '  It  might  be  Asiatic  cholera.  There  ain't  no  doubt 
that  the  original  settlers  in  this  here  continent  was  Asiatics.' 

"  '  Autopsy  goes  then ! '  says  Dick,  pulling  a  stone  hammer 
from  under  his  coat.  '  We  can  call  a  jury  after  it's  over.' 

"  Billy  Morgan  tried  to  stop  the  proceedings  there,  but 
he  seen  he  wasn't  going  to  succeed,  so  he  started  after  En- 
rico. Dick  hauled  off  and  brought  down  the  hammer  with  a 
whack  and  then  dropped  it  and  held  his  elbow. 

"  '  Well ! '  he  says.     '  That's  certainly  one  hard  citizen ! ' 

"  He  shook  the  feeling  back  to  his  arm  and  then  picked 
up  the  hammer  again  and  started  in  more  cautious.  In 
five  minutes  he  had  the  limbs  amputated  and  a  cross  section 
of  the  cholera  district  exposed.  From  that  on  the  dissection 
was  tolerably  easy,  but  there  was  several  pieces  considerable 
larger  than  a  walnut  left  of  the  subject  when  Enrico  and  pa 
came  busting  in  something  like  Yellow  Creek  the  lime  the 
big  dam  gave  way. 

"  Enrico  was  first,  and  he  struck  Dick  Wade  with  a 
seventy-five-mile  velocity  and  a  pressure  of  a  hundred  pounds 
to  the  square  inch.  Dick  landed  on  a  carboy  of  wood 
alcohol,  and  he  claimed  afterward  that  it  was  the  fumes  that 
really  knocked  him  out.  Doc  Minnifer  was  standing  back 
laughing  his  old  fat  head  off  when  pa  pasted  him,  and  doc's 
face  hurt  him  too  bad  to  even  smile  for  close  on  to  three 


44          THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

months  after.  For  the  time  being  his  sense  of  humor  was 
nothing  but  a  gory  pulp.  Wade  got  to  his  feet  and  swung 
the  stone  hammer,  but  unfortunately  for  him  he  missed  his 
lick,  and  Enrico  hit  him  with  great  force  and  violence,  not 
to  speak  of  celerity,  about  twenty-eight  times,  three  of  the 
times  while  Dick  was  in  a  nearly  perpendicular  position  and 
the  rest  while  he  was  more  or  less  horizontal.  Doc  Min- 
nifer  got  the  side  door  open  by  that  time  and  went  out  with- 
out troubling  to  close  it  behind  him,  with  pa  a  close  second. 
Dick  Wade  went  out  the  same  way,  but  with  Enrico's  able 
assistance,  and  he  lit  similar  to  a  sack  of  oats.  Considering 
the  amount  of  action  and  the  results,  it  was  about  the  rapid- 
est  ruction  on  record. 

"  When  it  was  over,  Enrico  sat  down  on  the  platform, 
sort  of  slumped,  and  gazed  mournfully  at  the  fragments  of 
his  hopes.  Then  he  looked  up  and  seen  that  the  end  of  the 
room  nearest  the  prescription  case  was  all  jammed  up  with 
a  hushed  and  awe-struck  mob  of  witnesses  in  tailor-made 
clothes,  many  of  them  wearing  side  whiskers  and  diamonds 
and  other  evidences  of  wealth.  Joe  Simms,  the  Hatchet 
man,  was  on  the  edge  of  the  herd  and  he  stepped  forward. 

" '  I  brought  these  here  gentlemen  to  see  your  justly  cele- 
brated petrified  man,  Mr.  Billings/  he  says. 

" '  There  he  is/  says  Enrico  sadly,  waving  his  hand  at  the 
litter.  '  Help  yourselves,  gentlemen !  Take  some  of  him 
along  as  souvenirs  if  you  care  to;  but  if  you'll  excuse  me  I 
want  to  think.' 

"  He  rested  his  chin  on  his  hands  and  forgot  them  while 
they  crowded  round  and  Billy  Morgan  and  pa  explained 
things.  After  a  while  somebody  touched  him  on  the  shoul- 
der. It  was  the  V.  P.  of  the  F.  E.,  a  kind  gentleman  with 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS  45 

a  white  waistcoat  draped  with  half  a  yard  of  gold  watch 
chain. 

"  '  Sir,'  says  the  V.  P.,  '  I  want  to  express  my  sympathy 
and  at  the  same  time  congratulate  you  on  your  efficiency  as 
a  double-handed  pivot-action  scrapper.  I  should  be  proud 
to  shake  hands  with  you.' 

"  '  Don't  mention  it,'  says  Enrico  wearily.  '  You're  wel- 
come any  time.'  He  gave  the  V.  P.  a  limp  hand  and  then 
dropped  his  chin  and  went  on  thinking.  After  a  while  there 
was  another  touch  on  his  shoulder.  This  time  it  was  a  lean 
gent  with  eyeglasses,  who  was  holding  a  piece  of  the  bo- 
hunkus'  left  ear  in  his  hand.  *  Excuse  me,'  says  this  one. 
'  My  name  is  Westerman  —  Henry  Westerman,  of  -the  West- 
erman  Hard  Plaster  Company,  in  Omaha.  My  curiosity  is 
excited ' 

"  '  So  was  mine,'  says  Enrico  with  a  sigh.  '  That's  how  it 
all  begun.' 

"  ' by  the  composition  of  this  here,'  says  Mr.  Wester- 
man. *  I've  just  took  the  liberty  of  pounding  a  bit  of  it 
up,'  he  says.  *  If  you  can  give  me  any  information  regard- 
ing the  same  it  might  be  worth  your  while.' 

"  '  It  was  discovered  near  the  south  fqrk  of  Bitter  Water,' 
says  Enrico  in  a  sort  of  dreamy  voice.  '  I  happened  to  see 
something  sticking  up  out  of  the  ground  and,  my  curiosity 
being  excited ' 

"  '  Just  so  —  exactly ! '  says  Mr.  Westerman.  '  That  part 
of  it  is  all  right.  Now  isn't  there  some  quiet  place  you  and 
me  can  go  to  and  talk  plain  and  confidential?  This  may 
mean  business.' 

"  Enrico  looked  at  him  and  seemed  to  come  to  life  all  of 
a  sudden.  '  Wait  a  moment,'  he  says,  and  went  over  and 


46  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

spoke  to  pa.  Then  he  came  back  to  Westerman.  '  All 
right,'  says  he.  '  I  guess  I  can  spare  you  half  an  hour  just 
as  well  as  not.' 

"  It  took  considerably  more  than  an  hour,  the  way  it 
turned  out,  for  Enrico  and  this  Eastern  party  to  do  their 
talking;  and  after  they  was  through  Enrico  found  he  had 
some  more  business  to  attend  to,  so  that  he  didn't  get  to  see 
Sedalia  that  night  after  all.  All  the  same,  he  was  round  to 
Old  Man  Warren's  reasonably  early  in  the  morning.  Pa 
wasn't  nowhere  round,  but  he  found  Sedalia  in  the  kitchen, 
where  she  was  singing  a  happy  little  song  and  finishing  up 
the  breakfast  dishes  with  her  back  turned  toward  him. 

"  She  didn't  look  round  when  she  heard  his  step.  '  Sit 
down,  Dick ! '  she  says.  '  I'll  be  through  in  a  minute.' 

" '  Dick  ain't  able  to  come  this  morning/  says  Enrico. 
4  He's  sort  of  indisposed.  I'll  sit  down  and  wait  for  you 
though.' 

"  She  turned  round  sharp  at  this.  '  Oh,  it's  you ! '  she 
says  with  a  raise  of  her  eyebrows  and  a  forty-below  tone  of 
voice.  '  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Billings  ?  I'm  sorry,  but  pa 
is  out  hunting  a  calf  that  got  away.  If  there's  any  word 
you'd  like  to  leave ' 

"  '  I'll  be  here  when  he  gets  back,  thank  you,  Miss  Sedalia,' 
says  Enrico,  mighty  sober  and  polite ;  '  but  what  I  come 
here  for,  special,  not  counting  a  business  engagement  that 
I've  got  with  an  Eastern  gentleman,  is  to  tell  you  that  I'm 
through  with  petrified  men  for  keeps.  As  betwixt  a  petri- 
fied man  and  a  flesh-and-blood  angel  there  ain't  but  one 
choice  possible  for  me.  I  don't  want  you  to  think  I  don't 
appreciate  strictly  honorable  sentiments,  such  as  a  noble- 
minded  lady  like  you  that  ain't  had  no  business  experience 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          47 

would  naturally  entertain,  and  I  own  up  that  I  done  wrong 
to  do  what  I  done.  Two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars 
clear  of  expenses  ain't  no  excuse,  but  now  I  see  plain  how 
you  feel  about  it  I've  quit.' 

" '  Was  you  threatened  with  arrest  up  in  the  Hills  if  you 
didn't  ? '  asks  Sedalia. 

"  '  I  was  not,'  says  Enrico.  '  I  was  doing  right  well  there. 
Nobody  ever  catched  me  lying  flat-footed,  and  that's  the 
truth.  I  came  back  account  of  you.  "  I'll  humbly  ask  her 
to  forgive  me,"  I  says  to  myself.  I  don't  deny  that  Dick 
Wade  held  an  inquest  on  our  stock  in  trade  yesterday  and 
smashed  it  up  to  smithereens  with  a  stone  hammer,  but  my 
intentions  was  to  get  shut  of  it  anyway.' 

"  '  Oh ! '  says  Sedalia.  Just  '  Oh ! '  was  all  she  said  for  a 
moment,  but  she  put  the  end  of  her  thumb  between  her  teeth 
and  seemed  to  study  on  that  information.  '  You  say  Dick  is 
indisposed  ?  '  she  says. 

"  '  Sort  of  under  the  weather,'  says  Enrico.  '  You  must 
have  been  disappointed,'  he  says. 

"  '  Well,  not  exactly,'  says  Sedalia.  '  You  see,  I  knew  it 
was  you.  You  got  back  yesterday,  didn't  you  ?  I  know  you 
did,  from  the  way  pa  acted.  Anything  more  you  want  to 
own  up  to,  Enrico  ?  ' 

"  '  That  petrified  man  was  artificial/  says  Enrico.  *  We 
made  him  out  in  the  shed.  It  was  a  kind  of  a  casting  of  pa. 
We  greased  pa  and  put  him  into  what  they  call  a  flask  — 
which  was  reverse  English  from  the  way  pa  had  always  used 
flasks.  Then  we  packed  sand  round  him  and  got  his  im- 
pression in  two  sections.  That  Swede  was  a  molder,  and 
he  done  the  fine  work.  That's  the  whole  truth  of  it.' 

" '  Anyway,  you  came  back,'  says  Sedalia.     She  lifted  up 


48  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

her  eyes  sort  of  bashful  and  blushed  all  over  her  face  and 
neck.  'You  must  have  started  the  minute  you  got  that 
anonymous  letter,'  she  says. 

"  She  made  a  jump  and  tried  to  get  away  the  moment  she 
said  it,  but  Enrico  caught  her,  and  after  a  furious  struggle 
that  was  prolonged  for  as  much  as  half  a  second  she  gave 
in,  and  the  conversation  wasn't  renewed  for  considerable 
of  a  while. 

"  Finally,  though,  Sedalia  got  her  ringers  twisted  with  a 
good  holt  in  Enrico's  hair  and  squirmed  part  ways  out  of 
his  embrace.  *  You  coot ! '  she  says.  '  Why  didn't  you  tell 
me  about  it  from  the  start?  Of  course  I'm  noble-minded, 
but  I  hope  I've  got  some  sense,  and  I  guess  you  gave  every- 
body the  worth  of  their  money.  If  I  hadn't  guessed  about 
what  you'd  done  I'd  have  give  fifty  cents  to  have  seen  it 
myself.' 

"  She  gave  his  head  a  shake  and  went  on :  '  Another 
thing,  I  meant  to  make  you  into  a  wealthy  and  respected 
citizen  myself,  and  you  go  to  work  and  take  the  job  into 
your  own  hands  without  telling  me.  Ain't  you  ashamed? 
And  Dick.  Wade  coming  round  all  the  time  while  you  was 
gone  didn't  make  a  particle  of  difference  to  you !  You  stay 
away  just  the  same,  no  matter  what  I  do.  Didn't  pa  tell 
you  how  I  was  carrying  on  with  him?  I  don't  care;  you 
came  when  you  thought  you  had  to.  But  why  did  you  wait 
until  this  morning  to  come  and  apologize?  I  suppose  you 
half  killed  poor  Dick  Wade.  I  hope  you  did.' 

1 '  Honey,'  says  Enrico, '  you  sure  make  a  high  score  when 
you  start  guessing,  but  you  won't  have  to  guess  from  this 
out.  Seems  like  I've  got  the  only  mountain  of  some  sort  of 
silicate  sand  in  the  whole  round  world  on  that  claim  of  mine 


THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS          49 

over  the  ridge,  and  that  sand  is  the  only  thing  that  you  can 
mix  up  with  gypsum  plaster  in  a  certain  way  to  make  a 
certain  first-class,  number-one  kind  of  cement  that's  in  extra 
demand.  I  didn't  come  last  night  because  I  had  to  file  on 
that  claim  right  away  to  cinch  it.  In  an  hour  from  now  I 
expect  a  gentleman  to  look  over  that  sand  mountain  and  pa's 
gypsum  deposits,  and  six  months  from  now  you  won't  be 
able  to  see  the  ranch  for  the  solid  tracks  and  gypsum  fac- 
tories on  it.  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  was  going  into  the  plaster 
business  ? ' 

"  He  looked  at  his  watch  and  stuffed  it  back  into  his  vest 
pocket  in  a  hurry.  '  Honey,'  says  he,  '  let's  make  the  most 
of  that  hour.' 

"  And  I  reckon  that's  about  all,"  concluded  the  old  bull- 
whacker.  "  Of  course  folks  don't  stop  living  after  they  get 
married ;  but  shucks !  who  cares  ?  They  make  the  most  of 
their  hour,  and  then  the  business  engagement  comes  along 
and  grabs  'em,  and  we  sort  of  lose  interest.  Enrico  got  his 
sidetracks  and  his  plaster  factory,  and  back  there  in  Omaha 
he's  reaching  out  and  getting  more  things  all  the  time. 
Sedalia  has  got  about  everything  she  can  think  of  wanting, 
I  guess;  but  I  doubt  if  them  sixty  golden  minutes  set  with 
thirty-six  hundred  diamond  seconds  that  Westerman  busted 
into  wasn't  more  satisfactory  than  any  times  they've  had 
since.  They  got  rich." 

44  Well,  that's  a  right  instructive  story,"  said  the  Bar-T 
boy,  throwing  his  skull  up  in  the  air  and  catching  it.  "  It 
goes  to  show  that  this  here  is  a  world  of  deceit  and  skin 
games." 

The  stock  tender  made  a  movement  of  decided  impatience, 


50  THE  BRACHYCEPHALIC  BOHUNKUS 

"  Let  up  on  that !  "  he  snarled.  "  You  may  not  know  that 
there  was  an  Iowa  family  massacred  by  the  Indians  near 
Medicine  Butte  in  '79,  and  anyway  human  relics  ain't  to  play 
ball  with.  Give  that  here !  " 

"  Wait  a  minute  and  don't  get  worked  up !  "  said  the 
Bar-T  boy,  waving  him  off.  He  thumbed  a  cigarette  paper 
from  a  book  that  he  drew  from  his  pocket  and  then  snapped 
back  the  upper  section  of  the  skull's  frontal  and  parietal 
bones,  disclosing  a  neat  cavity  filled  with  tobacco. 

"  Paper  ma-shay,"  he  said  with  a  grin.  "  A  cigar  drum- 
mer gave  it  to  me  in  the  agency  store  yesterday.  I  thought 
you  old  suckers  would  bite,  sooner  or  later." 


II 

GETTING  EVEN 

\T7HEN  the  old  bullwhacker  drew  bridle  at  the  Box 
^  *  Elder  stage  station,  having  ridden  six  miles  from 
his  river  claim  merely  to  refresh  himself  with  the  rare  music 
of  human  speech,  he  emitted  his  customary  bloodcurdling 
howl  to  call  the  stock  tender's  attention  to  his  arrival.  The 
stock  tender,  however,  instead  of  cheerfully  responding  with 
his  own  interpretation  of  the  wild  Sioux  war  cry,  as  he 
usually  did,  made  a  sudden  appearance  at  the  harness-room 
door  and  flung  a  currycomb  at  his  visitor's  head,  at  the 
same  time  sh-sh-sh-sh-ing  like  an  overcharged  locomotive 
relieving  itself  of  a  dangerous  pressure  of  steam. 

"  Is  the  baby  asleep  ?  "  queried  the  old  man  in  a  hoarse 
whisper  as  he  stiffly  dismounted. 

The  stock  tender's  frown  gave  place  to  a  wide  grin. 

"  You've  called  the  turn,"  he  replied  in  the  same  hushed 
tone. 

"  Give  the  old  plug  a  forkful  of  hay  and  then  come  in 
and  take  a  tiny  peek  at  the  little  darling.  He  looks  too  cute 
for  anything !  Step  light,  now !  " 

He  presently  led  the  way  back  to  the  harness  room, 
which  was  also  his  sleeping  apartment.  Tip  Yoakum,  a 
gangling,  red-bearded  granger  from  Hat  Creek,  was  sitting 
in  a  back-tilted  chair  close  to  the  bunk,  and  he  raised  a 

51 


52  GETTING  EVEN 

warning  finger  as  the  two  entered.  Simultaneously  a  gentle 
snore  proceeded  from  the  bunk  and  the  old  bullwhacker, 
advancing  a  cautious  step  or  two,  saw  a  young  man  lying 
extended  on  the  stock  tender's  blankets  and  sunk  in  pro- 
found slumber. 

The  very  peculiar  thing  about  the  young  man  was  his 
face,  which  was  dotted  and  streaked  in  a  strikingly  original 
pattern  with  red  ocher  and  black  harness  dressing.  Alter- 
nate bars  of  black  and  red  ran  horizontally  across  the 
sleeper's  forehead;  his  nose  was  of  a  vivid  red,  with  jet 
black  at  the  tip,  suggesting  the  claw  of  a  lobster ;  crescents 
and  crosses  filled  the  cheek  space  and  joined  two  circles 
with  central  dots  on  the  rounded  chin.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments' silent  inspection  the  old  bullwhacker  raised  his 
beetling  eyebrows  inquiringly.  The  stock  tender  answered 
with  the  complacent  smile  of  the  true  artist  who  knows  his 
work  is  good. 

"  The  angels  are  whispering  to  him,"  he  murmured  as  a 
slight  spasm  contorted  the  slumberer's  ochered  mouth. 
"  Let's  go,  boys ;  I  don't  want  to  have  to  walk  the  floor  with 
him." 

When  they  were  comfortably  seated  in  the  shade  of  the 
old  cottonwood  outside  the  station  the  old  bullwhacker  asked 
who  the  wearied  pilgrim  on  the  bunk  might  be. 

"  Dickie  Pollett,  one  of  the  Z  Bell  boys,"  replied  the  stock 
tender.  "  They  had  poor  Dickie  on  night  herd  all  through 
the  storm  last  night,  and  the  bunch  broke  away  eighteen 
times  with  a  conservative  average  of  five  miles  a  break  before 
they  could  be  headed  off.  On  top  of  that,  Bill  Timmy  hazes 
the  long-suffering  son-of-a-gun  down  here  to  meet  Owens, 
on  the  stage,  with  a  spare  horse  to  carry  him  to  camp.  Well, 


GETTING  EVEN  5S 

the  stage  being  probably  the  other  side  of  Pass  Creek  and 
the  road  being  so  they've  most  likely  got  hell  as  well  as  high 
water  to  wrastle  with,  Dickie  allowed  he'd  have  a  few  hours 
to  pound  his  ear,  which  he  has  been  doing  since  I  fed  him. 
He's  a  sound  sleeper,  Dickie  is."  The  stock  tender  chuckled. 
"  He'll  wake  up  when  the  stage  gets  in,  though.  They'll  be 
some  strangers  on  the  stage,  as  like  as  not,  who  won't  know 
no  better  than  to  make  rude  personal  remarks  about  the 
looks  of  folks.  I  sort  of  expect  a  little  break  in  the  monot- 
ony of  our  dull  lives  when  that  stage  pulls  in  and  Dickie 
comes  out.  Yes,  sir,  gentlemen,  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  at 
most  anything  in  the  line  of  excitement.  I  judge  Dickie  to 
be  sensitive  and  maybe  a  little  apt  to  take  offense." 

"  I  reckon  you're  right,"  said  the  old  bullwhacker,  "  if 
he's  the  Dick  Pollett  that  mangled  Tribulation  Simmons  up 
a  mess  last  fall ;  and  I  guess  he  must  be.  And  they  did 
say  that  Simmons  was  a  hard  man  to  handle.  I  disremem- 
ber  whether  he  got  well  or  not.  Did  you  hear,  Tip  ?  " 

The  Hat  Creek  granger  shook  his  head. 

"  I  didn't  hear,"  he  said  gravely. 

"And  didn't  he  about  half  kill  Crookneck  Nillson  on 
Coffee  Flat  last  calf  round-up?  Seems  to  me  that  boy's 
name  was  Pollett.  Why,  yes.  And  if  they  hadn't  pulled 

him  off Sure!  I've  got  him  placed  now.  Nillson 

played  some  little  harmless  joke  on  him,  and  Simmons  just 
made  a  kind  of  innocent  remark.  Oh,  he's  bad  medicine! 
Sort  of  reminds  me  of  Billy  the  Kid.  I  didn't  reco'nize  him 
as  he  was  asleep  there,  account  of  Hank's  art  decoration; 
but  I  got  him  placed.  I  remember  seeing  him  when  he  was 
on  trial  for  manslaughter  at  Cheyenne.  I  wouldn't  be  sur- 
prised at  'most  anything  myself.  Know  him  well,  Hank  ?  " 


54,  GETTING  EVEN 

"  You  make  me  tired !  "  said  the  stock  tender. 

"  What  seems  to  me  sort  of  onusual  is  Dick's  size,"  ob- 
served the  old  bullwhacker.  "  'Most  all  the  cut-ups  and 
humorous  jokers  I've  ever  met  up  with  has  been  husky, 
two-fisted  devils,  about  a  foot  taller  than  the  run,  with  a 
ringing  laugh  like  a  burro  at  sunrise  and  a  bold,  reckless 
spirit  bordering  on  rashness  —  like  Pete  Wallaby.  Some- 
times they'd  live  to  get  over  it  naturally,  as  sense  come  with 
the  passing  years,  and  sometimes  they  was  cut  off  in  the 
flower  of  their  youths  by  neck  yokes  or  three-legged  stools 
or  shotguns,  or  the  like  —  whatever  come  handiest  to  the 
man  that  couldn't  take  a  joke. 

"  One  of  the  comicalest  boys  I  ever  knew,  except  Pete 
Wallaby,  was  cut  off  by  a  circus  elephant  that  he  had  been 
feeding  peanuts  to.  A  few  of  the  peanuts  was  loaded  with 
red  pepper.  If  he  had  played  that  same  joke  on  a  small- 
sized  monkey  that  boy  might  have  been  alive  to-day,  fill- 
ing the  world  with  sunshine  and  horselaughs  and  mortal 
enemies;  but  no,  he  had  to  pick  on  an  elephant  of  Scotch 
descent  that  was  a  considerable  bigger  than  he  was  him- 
self. Still,  you  can't  'most  always  sometimes  tell.  Jessie 
Tarrant  wasn't  no  Siberian  mammoth  in  point  of  size." 

The  stock  tender  said  he  wasn't  acquainted  with  the 
lady,  and  what  about  her,  anyway?  • 

"  She  didn't  have  no  sense  of  humor,"  replied  the  old 
bullwhacker.  "  You  might  have  thought  she  had,  to  look 
at  her,  because  she  had  a  pair  of  these  yer  kind  of  bright 
black  eyes  that  always  seems  to  be  twinkling  when  they  ain't 
snapping;  and  she  smiled  easy  and  often,  and  laughed  like 
she  enjoyed  it.  But  she  was  mighty  deceiving,  just  the 
same.  Pete  found  that  out.  First  off,  he  thought  his  frolic- 


GETTING  EVEN  55 

some  ways  was  what  had  made  a  hit  with  her ;  and  I  reckon 
they  did,  only  they  didn't  hit  her  in  the  right  place." 

Here  the  stock  tender  interrupted  again  to  request  an  in- 
troduction to  Pete.  It  might  be  that  they  had  never  met  and 
never  would,  but  it  was  handy  to  have  particulars  to  check 
up  by  if  necessary. 

"  Pete  Wallaby  was  the  champeen  bronco-buster  of  the 
Flying  V  when  Shorty  Williams  run  the  outfit,"  the  old 
bullwhacker  particularized.  "  He  was  then  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  dark  complected,  good-looking,  six  foot  one  and 
three-quarter  inches  in  his  stocking  feet,  and  weighed  a 
hundred  and  eighty-seven  pounds  in  the  working  season, 
when  all  his  fat  was  in  his  head.  He  was  as  quick  as  a 
cat,  and  a  fancy  shot  with  a  six-gun ;  so  that  'most  every- 
body took  his  jokes  good-natured  and  nothing  serious  ever 
happened  to  him  until  he  run  acrost  Jessie  Tarrant  at  the 
Blueblanket  dance  that  they  had  to  celebrate  the  new  city 
hall  before  they  put  the  partitions  in. 

"  You  might  say  Pete  was  popular  and  well  thought  of. 
It  just  depends  on  whether  you  was  raised  to  be  truthful 
or  not.  The  Flying  V  cook,  Bert  Askins,  hadn't  much  use 
for  him,  account  of  his  putting  the  salt  in  the  sugar  can 
and  vice  versa,  and  changing  the  soda  and  baking  powder 
round,  substituting  coal  oil  for  lemon  extract.  One  time 
he  got  into  the  kitchen  just  before  Bert  spread  himself  to 
show  a  party  of  visiting  Eastern  stockholders  what  a  real 
range  cook,  with  red-flannel  underwear,  could  do. 

"  Red  Richardson  wasn't  never  real  friendly  with  Pete 
after  Pete  pulled  the  chair  away  from  him  just  as  he  was 
going  to  sit  down,  but  he  hadn't  ought  to  have  took  no 
chair  for  granted  when  Pete  was  round.  Milton  Brett  — 


56  GETTING  EVEN 

him  that  got  sent  over  the  road  for  rustling  beef  last  July  — 
Milt  did  paste  Pete  on  the  jaw  one  time  after  his  pipe  blew 
up  and  singed  off  his  mustache  and  eyebrows;  but  Pete 
didn't  stop  laughing  even  —  just  picked  Milt  up  and 
spanked  him.  Milt  went  for  his  gun  after  that ;  but,  some- 
how or  other,  he  had  mislaid  it  and  he  wouldn't  use  none 
that  the  boys  willingly  offered  him.  He  said  he  was  wonted 
to  his  own  and  knew  he  could  rely  on  it,  but  he  wasn't 
taking  no  chances  of  botching  up  no  assassination  with  an 
unfamiliar  weapon.  That  was  the  sort  of  luck  Pete  had 
until  he  met  up  with  Jessie  Tarrant. 

"  That  Blueblanket  dance  was  more  than  common  do- 
ings. It  was  the  first  city  hall  Blueblanket  had  ever  had 
in  the  six  months  that  it  had  been  a  city,  and  the  whole 
teeming  hundred  and  twenty-eight  of  its  population  was 
busting  with  pride  and  bound  to  make  the  celebration  a 
success.  The  Board  of  Trade  chartered  a  private  buck- 
board  and  drove  round  to  deliver  the  invites  personally, 
and  the  Flying  V  was  one  of  the  first  places  they  stopped. 
At  the  head  of  Calico  Canon  they  made  a  longer  stop  at 
Tarrant's,  and  Miss  Jessie  said  she'd  sure  attend  if  she 
could  only  get  a  gentleman  to  take  her.  Tarrant  allowed 
that,  the  way  gentlemen  had  been  beating  trails  to  his 
humble  home  from  forty  mile  round  and  wearing  out  rock- 
ing-chair seats  and  welcomes  and  things  on  no  particular 
business,  the  chances  was  she  could  rope  in  one,  or  even 
more  if  more  was  needed ;  and  he  wasn't  crowding  the  truth 
when  he  said  it. 

"  There  was  three  gentlemen  at  the  Flying  V  Ranch  that 
put  in  applications  to  take  Miss  Jessie  to  that  dance,  and 
two  of  the  horses  out  of  the  three  that  they  rode  over  to 


GETTING  EVEN  57 

apply  was  never  the  same  animals  after  that.  The  gentle- 
man that  got  there  first  was  Frank  Ellis,  and  Frank  was  a 
boy  who  would  always  look  ahead  a  little  if  there  was  any 
chance  of  saving  trouble;  so  when  he  found  he  was  the 
prize  winner  he  went  right  to  Pete  and  took  him  off  a 
piece  outside  the  bunk  house. 

"  '  Was  you  aiming  to  go  to  the  dance,  Pete  ? '  he  asks. 

"  '  Sure ! '  says  Pete,  prompt  and  cheerful.  '  Them's  my 
intentions.  Blueblanket  has  always  treated  me  right  and  I 
wouldn't  want  to  disappoint  the  folks  and  spoil  the  whole 
shindig  by  not  going.  Why,  certainly !  I'll  be  on  hand,  like 
a  sore  thumb.  We've  got  to  make  that  dance  a  big  suc- 
cess.' 

"  '  That's  my  idea/  says  Frank.  '  What  will  you  take  to 
stay  away  ? ' 

" '  Spread  your  idea  a  little  so's  I  can  study  it  easy,'  says 
Pete. 

"  '  Here  it  is,'  says  Frank :  '  We  want  to  make  that  dance 
a  success  as  a  dance.  We  don't  want  no  side-splitting  ex- 
trys  in  the  way  of  entertainment  like  you've  furnished  in 
times  past  and  gone  of  yore.  Plain  dancing  is  good  enough 
for  us  and  the  ladies  what  we  expect  to  take  along.  We 
ain't  anxious  to  have  anything  happen  to  the  lights,  and  if 
the  piano  ain't  just  what  it  ought  to  be  we  don't  care  to  have 
it  operated  on  with  wire  cutters.  I  thought  I'd  laugh  my- 
self sick  when  you  greased  Mat  Bingham's  fiddlestick  at 
Perry  Winter's  hoedown  that  night;  but  I  happen  to  know 
that  there  was  others  besides  Mat  who  couldn't  quite  see 
where  the  laugh  come  in. 

" '  It  takes  all  kinds  of  cur'ous  people  to  make  a  world, 
and  the  bulk  of  'em  —  women  folks  especially  —  want  to 


58  GETTING  EVEN 

dance  to  sweet  melodious  sounds  when  they've  got  all  fixed 
up  and  their  bangs  curled  for  it.  You  sabe  that,  don't  you, 
Pete?  They  figure  they  can  snicker  all  they  want  in  their 
old  clothes  'most  any  place  and  any  time,  and  put  baby  frogs 
down  their  own  necks,  where  they  can  get  'em  out  again 
without  embarrassing  theirselves  in  public.  I  know  your 
intentions  is  good  and  only  to  promote  mirth  and  merriment, 
but  there  ain't  no  denying  that  you  run  it  plumb  into  the 
ground  at  times;  so  I  allowed  it  might  be  as  well  for  you 
to  stay  right  here  and  play  a  few  games  of  solitaire,  or  braid 
a  quirt  or  something,  instead  of  going  to  Blueblanket  and 
raising  hilarious  hell  where  it  ain't  called  for.  I'd  be  willing 
to  trade  you  the  little  roan  if  you  could  see  it  that  way,  and 
take  it  as  a  favor.  I'd  sure  take  it  as  a  favor,  Pete.' 

"  Pete  laughed  and  slapped  his  leg. 

" '  That  frog  sure  was  a  joke  on  Birdie,  wasn't  it  ? '  he 
says.  '  She  like  to  throwed  a  fit.  Haw,  haw,  haw  ! '  Then 
he  looked  hard  at  Frank.  '  What  makes  you  so  dad-blamed 
anxious  about  this  ?  '  he  asks. 

" '  I'm  a-going  to  take  Miss  Jessie  Tarrant  to  that  dance,' 
says  Frank ;  '  and  when  I  take  a  lady  any  place  I  want  things 
to  go  smooth.' 

"  '  I've  heard  about  her  a  heap,'  says  Pete.  '  I'd  like  right 
well  to  see  her.  If  she's  going  I  guess  I'll  have  to  go,  just 
out  of  curiosity.  Can  I  go  if  I  promise  not  to  take  along  no 
frogs,  Frank  ? ' 

*' '  I  guess  you'll  go,  anyway,  dog-gone  you ! '  says  Frank, 
sort  of  disgusted. 

" '  And  if  I  don't  monkey  with  the  lights  or  the  music? ' 

" '  It  ain't  no  use  trying  to  reason  with  you ;  I  can  see 
that/  says  Frank.  '  But  if  you  break  up  that  dance  in  any 


GETTING  EVEN  59 

jr. 

way,  shape  or  manner  I'll  sure  play  even  with  you  sooner 
or  later,  and  most  likely  so  soon  it  will  make  your  head 
swim.  If  there's  any  parlor-match  heads  thro  wed  on  to  the 
floor ' 

"  Pete  slapped  his  leg  again  and  laughed  until  he  had  to 
hang  on  to  Frank's  neck  to  hold  himself  up. 

" '  There  won't  be  no-ho-ho-ho-no  match  heads/  he 
gurgles.  '  Not  a  wa-ha-ha-ha-hum !  No,  sir ;  I  wouldn't 
throw-ho-ho-ho  match  heads.' 

"  Frank  shook  him  off  and  left  him  weaving  round  and 
wiping  his  eyes  with  the  corner  of  his  neckerchief ;  and  a 
couple  of  nights  later  the  boys  saddled  up  and  rode  over  to 
the  dance. 

"  I  won't  say  no  more  about  that  dance  further  than 
that  it  was  the  toniest  function  there  had  been  in  the 
Territory  up  to  date.  It  was  a  dance  with  dog;  a  dance 
dee-lucks;  a  dance  that  laid  over  anything  I  ever  seen 
before  or  since.  Every  foot-loose  cow-puncher,  and  every 
giddy  granger  from  eighteen  to  sixty-eight  between  White 
River  and  Hay  Creek,  was  there,  seemed  like  to  me.  There 
was  miners  from  Terry  and  Ruby  Basin;  there  was  bull- 
whackers  from  Custer;  there  was  old  sourdoughs  from  the 
Rapid  Valley  and  tinhorns  from  Crook,  and  girls,  and 
ladies  who  had  got  a  little  a-past  it,  from  everywheres. 
You  could  smell  hair  oil  and  bay  rum  and  white-rose  per- 
fume as  far  as  you  could  see  the  blaze  of  lights  and  hear 
Lafe  Holman  calling  quadrilles;  and  I  never  knew  there 
was  so  much  ribbon  and  so  many  colors  of  it  in  the  wide, 
wide  world. 

"  The  chivalry  of  Blueblanket  had  been  shaving  candles 
on  the  floor  and  shuffling  it  in  since  early  morning,  and  it 


60  GETTING  EVEN 

looked  like  no  living  thing  could  stand  upright  on  it  with- 
out calks  on  their  shoes.  There  was  a  first  and  a  second 
fiddle,  a  horn  and  a  parlor  organ,  and  somebody  said  some- 
thing about  a  large  reperto're;  but  I  guess  the  fellow  that 
played  that  must  have  bogged  down  somewhere.  Anyway, 
there  was  music  enough  to  go  round  without  him. 

"  It  looked  like  Pete  Wallaby  was  a-going  to  behave  him- 
self. 'Most  generally  the  boys  had  trouble  starting  for  a 
dance,  owing  to  razors  getting  misplaced  and  flour  put  in 
their  hats,  and  the  linings  of  their  coat  sleeves  sewed  up, 
and  such;  but  this  time  the  whole  outfit  got  off  without  a 
hitch  or  a  word  spoke  out  of  the  way.  Frank  Ellis  started 
about  half  a  day  earlier  than  the  rest  to  make  sure  of  get- 
ting to  Calico  Canon  on  time,  and  Pete  helped  him  wash 
the  buggy  and  slick  up  the  team  that  Shorty  Williams  had 
let  him  take. 

" '  All  I  ask  is  a  knockdown  to  this  Miss  Jessie  Tarrant,' 
says  Pete.  '  I've  beared  tell  a  heap  about  that  lady,  and 
from  what  I  hear  I've  got  an  idea  that  her  and  me  is 
a-going  to  cotton  to  each  other  a  heap  considerable.  You 
tell  her  I  said  so.  Make  her  feel  good.  You'll  want  some- 
thing pleasant  and  interesting  to  talk  about;  so  you  just 
tell  her  about  me  and  say  that,  as  far  as  I  know,  her  chances 
is  good.' 

" '  The  kindest  thing  will  be  not  to  say  nothing  about 
you,'  says  Frank.  '  I'm  one  of  the  sort  that  if  I  can't  say 
nothing  good  about  a  man  I  keep  my  mouth  shut/ 

"  Pete  laughed.  He  was  mighty  good-natured,  Pete  was ; 
that  was  one  thing  about  him.  Always  meant  well.  Liked 
his  little  joke;  but,  only  for  being  a  pest  and  a  nuisance, 
there  wasn't  no  real  harm  in  him.  I  don't  know  whether 


GETTING  EVEN  61 

he  meant  anything  more  than  to  plague  Frank  about  Jessie 
Tarrant,  because  he  had  never  paid  much  attention  to  the 
girls  —  only  to  torment  them.  He  took  in  the  dances  once 
in  a  while,  but  he  wasn't  crazy  about  it,  and  he  was  as 
apt  to  go  in  his  chaps  and  no  more  fixing  up  than  washing 
his  face  and  giving  his  hair  a  lick  of  the  comb  as  any  other 
way.  This  time,  though,  he  was  as  slick  and  shining  and 
sweet-smelling  as  e'er  a  one  in  the  crowd,  and  his  good 
clothes  didn't  disfigure  him  anything  like  what  you'd  nat- 
urally expect. 

"  Even  good  clothes  can't  hide  a  straight  back  and  square 
shoulders,  and  a  set  of  white  teeth  that  not  even  lifting  nail 
kegs  and  tables  up  by  them  had  pulled  out  of  line.  Jessie 
Tarrant  took  notice  of  them  teeth  of  Pete's  right  after  she 
had  posted  herself  on  his  eyes,  and  she  showed  him  a  set 
that  was  just  as  white  and  even,  only  smaller  and  with  more 
attractive  surroundings. 

" '  I've  heared  a  heap  about  you,  Mr.  Wallaby/  she  says, 
and  then  laughed  one  of  them  easy  laughs  of  hers. 

" '  I'll  break  Frank  Ellis'  fool  neck  for  him,'  says  Pete. 

" '  It  wasn't  Frank  Ellis  told  me  about  you ;  it  was 
a  young  lady,'  says  Jessie.  '  She  thinks  a  whole  lot  of 
you.' 

"  '  That's  good,'  says  Pete. 

" '  I  didn't  say  it  was,'  says  Jessie.  '  I  wouldn't  call  it 
that,  exactly.' 

"  '  Who  was  it,  anyway  ?  '  Peter  asks  her. 

"  '  It  was  Birdie  McPheeters,'  Jessie  told  him.  '  Would 
you  like  to  know  what  she  thinks  of  you  ?  I  guess  she  told 
you  though.  She  says  she  did.' 

"  '  She  sure  did ! '  says  Pete,  braying  a  few  notes.     '  She 


62  GETTING  EVEN 

certainly  told  me  a-plenty.  I  reckon  she  didn't  hold  noth- 
ing out  on  me.  Ho-ho-ho !  Ho-ho-ho-ho ! ' 

"  '  You  ought  to  go  outside  to  do  that/  says  Jessie,  sort 
of  reproachful.  'No;  don't,'  she  says.  'You  might  scare 
some  of  the  teams.' 

"  '  I  wasn't  going  to,'  says  Pete  — '  not  so  long  as  you  are 
in  here.  May  I  have  the  honor  of  having  the  pleasure  of 
the  next  dance  with  you,  if  you  please,  ma'am?' 

" '  I'm  sorry  to  have  to  regret  to  say  that  you  can't,'  she 
says ;  '  but  if  you're  not  engaged  by  being  tied  up  and  be- 
spoke for  the  varsovienne,  and  you  are  wishfully  desirous 
of  wanting  to  dance  that  with  me,  I'll  try  to  remember  not 
to  forget  you  if  you  come  round  and  remind  me.' 

" '  I'm  thankfully  grateful  for  the  opportunity  of  the 
chance;  and  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  to  boot,'  says  Pete. 

"  And  when  the  varsovienne  was  called  they  took  the 
floor;  and  I  want  to  .tell  you  that  it  was  a  pretty  sight. 
Pete  could  ride  a  horse  and  he  could  dance.  When  you 
saw  him  do  either  one  of  them  two  things  you'd  say  he  never 
done  nothing  else  in  his  worthless  life;  Jessie  was  as  light 
as  thistledown  and  yet  her  little  feet  would  hit  the  floor  as 
sharp  and  true  as  you  could  draw  a  stick  along  a  picket 
fence ;  and,  right  foot  and  left  foot  and  swing  and  turn,  the 
two  moved  like  they  was  parts  of  the  same  machinery  and 
didn't  have  to  think  about  it  no  more  than  machinery  would. 
Not  having  to  think,  they  naturally  talked. 

"  '  How  do  you  ever  study  out  all  them  comical  things 
you  do  ? '  says  Jessie,  looking  up  at  him,  admiring.  *  Like 
frogs  down  girls'  backs,  and  such?  ' 

" '  Oh,  I  don't  know,'  says  Pete.  *  It's  a  gift,  I  reckon. 
I  don't  have  to  study  on  'em;  they  just  come  to  me.' 


GETTING  EVEN  63 

'  'Ain't  there  no  way  of  heading  them  off?'  says  Jessie. 

"  '  I  never  studied  on  that/  says  Pete.  '  You  don't  think 
I've  got  frogs  in  my  pocket  now,  do  you?  If  I  had  you 
wouldn't  need  to  be  a-skeered.  I  might  clip  off  one  of  them 
cunning  little  curls  when  you  wasn't  looking,  but  that's  as 
far  as  I'd  go  with  you.' 

'"If  you  went  that  far  you'd  sure  wish  that  you  hadn't 
never  started ! '  says  Jessie. 

" '  I  ain't  got  no  shears  with  me,'  says  Pete. 

" '  All  you've  got  with  you  is  your  nerve,'  says  Jessie. 
'  Ain't  that  horn  heavenly  ?  I  think  the  gentleman  that's 
playing  it  is  real  good-looking  too.  Don't  you  ?  I  love  blue 
eyes,  and  his  is  the  bluest  I  ever  seen.  I  think  it's  a  shame 
to  keep  him  up  there  playing  all  evening.' 

"  '  It  is  a  kind  of  a  shame,'  Pete  agrees.  '  Somebody 
ought  to  yank  him  down  by  the  leg.' 

"  '  Frank  Ellis  has  got  blue  eyes  too,'  she  says. 

" '  He  might  get  'em  blacked  sometime,'  says  Pete. 
'  Frank  talks  real  sassy  once  in  a  while.  He's  all  right 
though ;  and  if  he  keeps  away  from  my  girl  him  and  me  will 
be  good  friends.  I'm  going  to  mention  it  to  him.' 

"  '  Maybe  I  can  help  you  to  keep  him  away  from  her,'  says 
Jessie. 

" 4 1  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  you  could,'  says  Pete,  grin- 
ning. '  That  horn  is  sure  h-h-heavenly,  like  you  said.' 

"  The  horn  and  the  rest  of  the  music  stopped  just  then  and 
Pete  had  to  take  his  lady  to  her  seat.  Then  he  strolled 
round  to  the  platform  where  the  music  was  and  took  a  good 
look  at  the  fellow  that  played  the  horn. 

"  He  was  a  young  Swede,  name  of  Erickson,  that  played 
one  winter  in  the  Gem  Orchestra  at  Deadwood  —  a  long- 


64  GETTING  EVEN 

legged,  bushy-headed  boy,  almost  an  inch  taller  than  Pete 
was  himself,  with  a  little  brimstone-colored  mustache.  He 
seen  Pete  was  looking  at  him  and  he  looked  back,  straight 
and  sober.  '  What  kind  of  wind  gets  the  best  results  from 
that  contraption  of  yours,  pardner  ? '  Pete  asks.  '  East  wind 
or  Chinook,  or  what  ?  Excuse  me  for  asking.' 

"  *  You  haf  a-planty  gude  excoose,'  says  Erickson.  *  Ay 
can  tall  right  away  that  your  mindt  is  weak.' 

"  Before  Pete  could  come  back  at  him  Lafe  Holman 
yelled  '  Pardners  for  a  quadrille ! '  and  the  music  started 
up  again.  Pete  danced  that  with  Vannie  Streeter  and  then 
hustled  round  to  ask  Jessie  for  the  next  waltz ;  but  all  she 
gave  him  was  a  kind  word  and  a  sweet  smile,  and  when 
Frank  Ellis  come  up  she  took  Frank's  arm  and  walked  away 
with  him. 

"  '  Well,  I  reckon  I  might  as  well  attend  to  your  little 
matter  right  now,  Mr.  Ellis,'  says  Pete,  looking  after  them ; 
and  with  that  he  slipped  out  of  the  hall  and  was  gone  for 
about  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 

"  When  he  come  back  he  was  grinning  all  over  his  face ; 
but  the  grin  faded  out  when  he  seen  Jessie  and  Birdie 
McPheeters  standing  with  their  arms  round  each  other's 
waists  and  a-talking  to  the  Swede  horn  virtuoso.  Erickson 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  the  conversation,  too. 

"  '  Hm-m-m ! '  says  Pete.  '  I  come  mighty  near  forgetting 
about  you.  Telling  you  how  heavenly  you  play,  ain't  they  ?  ' 

"  He  turned  and  went  out  of  the  hall  again  and  this  time 
he  wasn't  gone  so  long.  They  had  just  started  another 
waltz  and  Erickson  was  doing  the  most  part  himself,  the 
two  fiddles  just  chipping  in  in  spots;  and  I  want  to  tell  you 
that  that  fellow  was  blowing  the  most  soulful  and  melting 


GETTING  EVEN  65 

and  dreamy  of  anything  you  ever  heard,  for  a  horn.  You 
could  hear  folks  all  over  the  room  remarking  how  sweet 
and  lovely  it  was,  and  the  boys  and  girls  was  just  a-rolling 
up  their  eyes  as  they  danced.  He  was  sure  reeling  it  off  in 
great  shape. 

"  Pete  tiptoed  along  by  the  wall  until  he  got  to  where 
there  was  some  seats  close  up  to  the  platform  where  Erick- 
son  was  performing,  and  when  he  seen  that  the  Swede  had 
took  notice  of  him  he  sat  down  and  pulled  a  big  lemon  out 
of  his  pocket. 

"  The  Swede's  blue  eyes  looked  mighty  frosty  at  that, 
but  he  turned  them  away  to  the  other  side  of  the  hall  as 
Pete  got  out  his  knife  and  cut  the  lemon  in  half.  Pete 
smiled  and  licked  one  of  the  halves  kind  of  relishing  and 
wry-mouthed,  and  kept  on  a-licking  it.  He  knew  Erickson 
knew  what  he  was  a-doing  and  that  he  couldn't  help  look- 
ing at  him  again  to  save  his  Swede  neck;  and  it  wasn't  but 
a  moment  or  two  before  Erickson's  Adam's  apple  jumped 
and  the  horn  missed  one  note  and  played  the  next  away  off. 
Then  Erickson  looked,  and  there  was  sure  murder  and 
sudden  death  in  his  eyes.  Pete  grinned  at  him  real  aggra- 
vating and  set  his  teeth  right  down  into  that  lemon,  and 
then  puckered  his  mouth.  The  Swede  looked  away  as  quick 
as  he  could,  but  his  Adam's  apple  worked  up  and  down 
again  and  the  horn  broke  gait  and  bubbled. 

"  I  was  standing  close  by  and  taking  it  all  in,  and  I'll  be 
switched  if  my  own  mouth  didn't  dribble  like  a  baby's,  the 
way  Pete  was  going  for  that  fruit ;  and  I  had  been  suffering 
the  other  way  just  before  that.  Then  the  fiddles  come  in 
and  gave  Erickson  a  chance  to  shake  his  horn  out.  You 
could  see  he  was  bullheaded  enough  to  think  he  could  finish 


66  GETTING  EVEN 

up  the  waltz ;  but  he  hadn't  much  more  than  put  the  mouth- 
piece to  his  lips  before  he  had  to  swallow,  and  the  horn 
began  to  bubble  and  whiffle  worse  than  ever.  Then  he 
catched  Pete's  eye  again,  and  I'm  bound  to  say  that  I  wasn't 
much  surprised  at  what  happened. 

"  He  didn't  whoop,  that  Swede  didn't.  It  was  something 
between  a  roar  and  a  bellow  that  he  let  out.  His  eyes 
blazed,  and  he  drew  back  his  long  arm  and  sent  that  horn 
whizzing  a-past  Pete's  head  like  it  had  been  shot  out  of  a 
cannon.  If  Pete  hadn't  dodged  as  quick  as  he  did  that 
instrument  would  sure  have  been  crumpled  so  bad  that  it 
couldn't  never  have  been  straightened  out  again.  As  it  was, 
it  took  old  Fred  Higginson,  the  shift  boss  at  the  Alcantara, 
in  a  soft  place  in  the  center  of  his  anatomy;  so  it  wasn't 
scarcely  bent,  outside  of  its  natural  curlicues.  Fred  was 
some  twisted  though,  and  his  side  pardner,  Bill  Treadvvay, 
had  to  act  for  him  —  which  he  done.  He  couldn't  get  no 
direct  action  on  the  Swede,  because  Erickson  had  followed 
his  horn  off  the  platform  in  the  same  direction,  and  Pete 
had  met  him  before  his  feet  touched  the  ground.  All  Bill 
could  do  was  slam  Guy  Hepburn,  the  second  fiddler,  who 
was  trying  to  pull  Pete  off  the  Swede;  and  Dave  Hughes, 
the  Blueblanket  blacksmith,  crowded  right  in  and  landed 
with  the  best  he  had  just  behind  Bill's  ear. 

"  The  scene  that  followed  was  one  of  indescribable  con- 
fusion, as  the  fellow  says,  and  I  reckon  it  would  have  lasted 
longer  than  it  did  if  one  of  the  lamps  hadn't  got  turned 
over,  and  the  party-cipants,  which  included  a  majority  of 
the  able-bodied  males  present,  hadn't  had  to  forget  their 
personal  differences  to  put  out  the  blaze.  Seemed  like  it 
was  one  of  them  incidents  that  sort  of  spoil  'most  any  social 


GETTING  EVEN  67 

occasion  and  take  the  tuck  out  of  it;  but  they  couldn't 
have  gone  on  with  the  dance  and  let  joy  be  unconfined 
nohow,  account  of  the  orchestra  being  mostly  debris  and 
cases  that  required  care  and  nursing.  Gene  Lewis  did  find 
that  the  organ  could  still  be  used  some,  but  nearly  all  the 
girls  was  on  the  way  home ;  so  what  was  the  use  ? 

"  Jessie  Tarrant  stood  out  by  Sol  Epstein's  hitching  rack 
and  watched  Frank  Ellis  change  back  the  front  and  hind 
wheels  of  the  buggy  to  where  they  belonged.  There  was  a 
considerable  axle  grease  on  the  hubs  and  spokes  of  them 
wheels  when  Frank  started  the  job,  and  when  he  finished 
the  most  of  it  was  on  his  hands  and  clothes.  All  the  same, 
Frank  remembered  that  he  was  a  gentleman.  Jessie  told 
him  not  to  mind  her  and  to  say  whatever  he  felt  like;  but 
Frank  wouldn't. 

"  '  If  I  got  started  once  I  wouldn't  be  apt  to  stop  this  side 
of  what  no  lady  ought  to  listen  to,'  says  Frank.  '  Ain't  the 
stars  bright  ? ' 

"  '  It  was  that  Pete  Wallaby,  wasn't  it  ? '  Jessie  asks,  sort 
of  deadly  quiet. 

"  '  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  Mr.  Wallaby  wasn't  more 
or  less  directly  or  indirectly  responsible,'  says  Frank  in  about 
the  same  way. 

" '  And  it  was  him  broke  up  the  dance  ?  I  saw  him  real 
busy ;  but  he  started  the  trouble,  didn't  he  ? ' 

"  '  I'll  take  an  early  opportunity  of  asking  him  about  it 
and  let  you  know,'  says  Frank. 

"  He  looked  at  her  as  they  struck  the  canon  trail,  and  her 
lips  was  set  so  tight  that  you  could  hardly  see  the  red.  Her 
cheeks  was  red  enough  though  —  a  bright  patch  of  scarlet 
on  each  one  and  the  rest  of  her  face  pale.  It  was  one  of  the 


68  GETTING  EVEN 

times  when  her  eyes  was  snapping  instead  of  twinkling,  but 
she  spoke  as  quiet  as  she  did  before,  the  words  coming  slow 
and  distinct,  like  drops  off  an  icicle. 

"  '  Listen ! '  she  says.  '  I'm  going  to  get  even  with  Mr. 
Peter  Wallaby  for  this.' 

"When  Frank  Ellis  got  back  from  Calico  Canon  the 
Flying  V  bunk  house  was  about  as  still  as  a  bunk  house 
ever  gets  to  be  round  about  three  o'clock  A.  M.  Frank  car- 
ried his  lantern  in  and  held  it  for  as  long  as  a  couple  of 
minutes  over  Pete  Wallaby,  studying  whether  he  would 
wake  him  up,  or  kill  him  while  he  was  asleep,  or  wait  until 
the  boys  got  up  at  daylight.  Pete  was  sleeping  like  a  baby 
with  a  blameless  past.  He  had  washed  his  face  before 
retiring  and  you  couldn't  scarcely  notice  that  he  was  marked 
up,  except  his  knuckles,  which  was  exposed  just  outside  of 
the  blanket. 

"  Finally  Frank  concluded  that  he  wanted  Pete  to  know 
what  happened  to  him,  and  that  he'd  feel  fresher  and  make 
a  better  showing  if  he  sawed  off  a  little  slumber  himself; 
so  he  peeled  off  his  garments  and  turned  in. 

"  That  was  where  he  made  his  mistake.  It's  a  good  idea 
to  sleep  on  some  things;  but  if  you've  made  up  your  mind 
to  lick  a  man  the  time  to  do  it  is  while  you've  got  him  in 
easy  reach  and  the  bristles  is  still  raised  on  your  neck. 
Frank  was  last  man  in  to  breakfast  the  next  morning  and 
Pete  was  already  through  and  using  his  mouth  to  talk 
while  he  rolled  him  a  cigaret. 

" '  It  just  goes  to  show  how  man  may  do  his  darndest 
to  dodge  trouble  and  yet  have  it  piled  on  him  two- foot 
thick,'  says  Pete.  '  Here  I  goes  to  this  dance  and  act  like  a 


GETTING  EVEN  69 

perfect  lady  right  along  —  no  cutting  up  or  nothing,  and 
you'd  think,  to  hear  them  Blueblanket  folks  talk,  that  I'd 
been  helling  round  from  the  minute  I  struck  town.  I  own 
up  that  I  did  have  a  dandy  scheme  for  a  little  fun  and 
excitement,  but  I  changed  my  notion.  Frank  Ellis  told  me 
he  wanted  things  to  run  smooth  and  there  ain't  nothing  I 
wouldn't  do  to  please  Frank.  I  think  more  of  that  boy 
than  I  do  of  some  of  my  own  blood  kin. 

"  '  Why,  hello,  Frank !  I  didn't  see  you  come  in.  Well, 
nobody  can't  say  that  I  didn't  do  my  darndest  to  make 
things  run  smooth  —  as  smooth  as  grease  —  axle  grease; 
and  here  I'm  sitting,  peaceable  and  quiet,  listening  to  the 
music  and  taking  a  little  light  refreshment,  and  a  crazy 
Swede  ups  and  tries  to  brain  me  with  a  brass  horn  without 
aye,  yes  or  no,  hog,  dog  or  devil,  or  rhyme  or  reason  —  and 
me  sitting,  like  I  said,  as  ca'm  and  peaceful  as  moonlight 
on  the  lake  or  a  bump  on  a  log,  or  anything  you  like  to 
mention.  That's  what  I  get ! ' 

" '  That  ain't  all  you  get,'  says  Frank,  lifting  his  cup. 

"  *  Excuse  me  interrupting  you,  gentlemen,'  says  Shorty 
Williams,  looking  in  at  the  door.  '  Pete,  if  you've  et  enough 
to  last  you  till  noon  I'd  like  to  have  you  saddle  up  and 
bring  in  them  horses  from  Little  Powder  Creek.  Jim,  you 
might  go  with  him  and  help  him,  if  you'd  just  as  soon.  I- 
see  you're  through.' 

"  He  waited  until  Pete  and  Jim  got  up  and  then  trailed 
off  with  them  to  the  corral  to  see  that  they  got  an  early 
start.  Frank  had  set  down  his  coffee  cup.  The  coffee  was 
too  hot  to  drink  and  he  had  figured  that  it  was  a  poor  time 
to  throw  it.  Before  he  had  finished  his  breakfast  Shorty 
come  back  and  told  him  he  was  elected  to  drive  a  bunch  of 


70  GETTING  EVEN 

beef  steers  to  the  railroad,  and  that  was  a  matter  of  three 
or  five  days,  according  to  whether  the  cars  was  on  the  side 
track  as  per  solemn  oath  and  agreement  of  the  U.  P. 
agent  —  which,  of  course,  they  wasn't.  While  the  boys  was 
waiting  for  the  cars  Frank  met  up  with  a  beauteous  little 
biscuit  shooter,  who  took  a  real  personal  interest  in  his 
nourishment  and  had  a  little  time  to  spare  evenings  after 
supper. 

"  The  result  was  that  Frank  got  back  with  a  tintype 
photograph  in  his  left  inside  vest  pocket  and  more  charitable 
feelings  under  that.  He  hadn't  quite  give  up  the  idea  of 
making  Pete  feel  sorry  that  he  was  ever  born.  He'd  passed 
his  word  to  play  even  sooner  or  later  and  he  calculated  to 
keep  his  word  good ;  but  he  allowed  that  later  would  be  time 
a-plenty  —  after  he  got  his  homestead  and  preemption 
picked  out  and  a  good  log  house  built  on  it,  anyway.  Pete 
wasn't  at  the  ranch  when  he  got  back;  he'd  got  Shorty  to 
let  him  have  a  day  off  and  had  rode  over  to  Calico  Canon 
to  get  acquainted  with  Old  Man  Tarrant  and  Mrs.  Tarrant 
and  the  dog. 

"Jessie  happened  to  be  about,  as  she  often  was,  account 
of  living  there,  and  you  never  seen  nobody  pleasanter  than 
what  she  was. 

'"Ain't  this  a  surprise!    Why,  Mr.  Wallaby!     I  ain't t 
seen  you  since  the  dance,  have  I  ? ' 

" '  Don't  you  never  think  I  was  willing  to  let  all  that 
time  go  by  without  coming  to  see  you/  says  Pete.  '  I've 
been  just  as  anxious  to  see  you  as  you  have  to  see  me.' 

"  '  As  much  as  that  ? '  she  asks,  showing  a  dimple. 

"  '  Maybe  more,'  says  Pete.  '  It  wouldn't  surprise  me. 
You  may  think  I'm  lying ;  but,  honest  to  goodness  and  cross 


GETTING  EVEN  71 

my  heart,  that's  so.  When  I  take  a  notion  that  I  like  a 
person  I  just  naturally  want  to  camp  with  'em.  I'm  un- 
easy when  I  can't  see  'em  —  plumb  uneasy  and  unhappy. 
I'm  funny  that  way.' 

" '  You're  funny  lots  of  ways,'  says  Jessie.  '  That  was 
a  real  cute  thing  you  done  to  Mr.  Erickson  at  the  dance.' 

"  '  Erickson  ?  '  says  Peter.  '  Oh,  sure  !  He's  the  gen- 
tleman that  played  the  horn  so  heavenly,  ain't  he?  Well, 
Miss  Jessie,  ma'am,  I  don't  believe  that  Mr.  Erickson  could 
blow  out  a  match  at  the  present  moment.' 

"  '  And  setting  the  city  hall  afire ! '  says  Jessie.  '  That 
certainly  was  a  good  joke  on  Blueblanket.  They  put  the 
fire  out  first,  didn't  they?' 

"  '  First  —  how  ?  '  Pete  asks. 

"  '  Before  they  put  you  out.' 

"  '  I  didn't  hear  nothing  about  that  part  of  it,'  says  Pete. 
'  I  think  if  that  had  happened  some  of  the  boys  would  have 
told  me  about  it.  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  started  that 
fire.  It  was  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  McCarty.' 

"  '  You  threw  him  at  the  lamp,  though,  didn't  you  ? '  says 
Jessie. 

"  '  No,  ma'am ! '  says  Pete.  *  That  was  an  accident.  I 
aimed  at  the  window.' 

" '  My ! '  says  Jessie.  '  Here  I  am  a-setting  here,  and 
you  must  be  thirsty  after  that  long  ride.  I'm  going  to  make 
you  some  nice  cold  lemonade.  I  guess  we've  got  lemons  in 
the  house.' 

" '  That's  going  to  take  precious  time,'  says  Pete.  '  I'd 
rather  perish  with  thirst,  if  it's  just  the  same  to  you  —  un- 
less you  let  me  go  with  you  and  watch  you  make  it.' 

"Jessie  told  him  she  couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing  and 


72  GETTING  EVEN 

that  she  wouldn't  be  gone  much  more  than  a  minute  or  two. 
She  wasn't  either.  In  a  few  minutes  she  came  back  with  a 
pitcher  of  nice  cool  lemonade  and  poured  him  out  a  glass  of 
it.  Pete  took  a  sip  and  kind  of  smacked  his  lips. 

" '  That's  elegant/  he  says,  and  drunk  down  the  rest  of  it. 

"  '  Have  some  more/  says  Jessie,  giggling. 

"  '  I'll  just  go  you ! '  says  Pete. 

"  He  didn't  sip  that  time,  but  just  tilted  the  glass  and 
took  it  in  a  breath.  Jessie  looked  at  him  kind  of  curious 
as  he  gave  her  a  grateful  smile. 

" '  I  don't  like  to  act  like  a  hog,  but  I  wonder  if  there 
ain't  maybe  a  little  left  in  that  pitcher/  he  says,  holding  out 
his  glass  again.  '  But  maybe  you'd  like  some  yourself.  I'm 
mighty  selfish,  ain't  I?  You  take  what's  left  —  or  we'll 
share  it.' 

" '  I  wouldn't  choose  any,  thank  you/  says  Jessie.  She 
took  up  the  pitcher  and  poured  the  rest  of  the  lemonade 
over  the  rail  of  the  porch.  '  I'll  make  you  some  more/  she 
says,  '  if  you're  sure  you  want  it/ 

"  Pete  bent  over  to  look  where  she'd  poured. 

" '  Ain't  you  afraid  you'll  kill  them  posies  ? '  he  asks. 
'  They  say  salt  ain't  good  for  flowers.' 

"  '  I  guess  it  takes  the  freshness  out  of  them/  says  Jessie. 
'  Shall  I  make  you  some  more  ? ' 

"  '  It  keeps  things,  of  course/  says  Pete.  '  But  you  don't 
need  to  worry  about  keeping  me.  You  can't  lose  me.  You 
can't  even  mislay  me,  Jessie/ 

"  He  looked  at  her  pretty  straight,  smiling,  but  kind  of 
serious  too.  For  once  in  her  life  Jessie  didn't  know  what  to 
say  for  as  much  as  five  seconds.  Then  she  said : 


GETTING  EVEN  73 

" '  Ain't  you  a  little  mite  familiar  on  short  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Wallaby?' 

"  '  Why  —  bless  your  sweet,  pretty  little  heart !  —  ours 
ain't  a  short  acquaintance,'  says  Pete.  *  It's  just  a  begin- 
ning, of  course,  but  it's  going  to  last  as  long  as  we  both 
live/ 

"'If  that's  so  I  don't  believe  I  want  to  live  long,'  says 
Jessie.  '  Oh,  ma !  I  want  you  to  come  here  and  meet  Mr. 
Wallaby.  Mr.  Wallaby's  the  gentleman  who  changed  the 
buggy  wheels  round  on  Frank  Ellis  and  me  the  night  of  the 
dance.' 

"  I  know  lots  of  men  who  would  have  been  plumb  dis- 
couraged by  a  start  like  that,  but  Pete  Wallaby  didn't  have 
enough  sense  to  let  it  faze  him.  From  that  time  on  he 
was  a  regular  and  occasional  caller  at  the  Calico  Canon 
Ranch,  and  he  acted  like  he  knew  he  was  more  than  wel- 
come. He  made  himself  solid  with  Tarrant  by  breaking  in 
some  colts  the  old  man  had  in  good  shape  and  by  turning 
his  hand  to  any  little  jobs  that  seemed  to  be  crowding  when 
he  was  there.  He  got  a  stand-in  with  the  old  lady  by  ways 
and  means  that  generally  works  if  a  man  ain't  too  busy  with 
daughter  to  use  'em  right  along.  He  made  friends  with 
the  dog  and  he  didn't  overlook  the  cat,  and  it  seemed  like 
Jessie  was  the  only  one  that  didn't  appear  to  want  him 
round  —  and  there  was  times  when  she  acted  more  like  he 
was  one  of  the  other  boys  that  wore  out  them  forty-mile 
trails  to  the  ranch. 

"  Them  trails  soon  begun  to  get  dim  and  grown  over  with 
grass  and  weeds  —  all  except  the  one  from  the  Flying  V. 
One  by  one  the  boys  got  less  regular  and  more  occasional, 


74  GETTING  EVEN 

and  then  less  occasional  and  only  once  in  a  devil  of  a  while. 
Nothing  real  awful  ever  happened  to  'em,  but  Pete  had  a 
way  of  slapping  them  on  the  back,  to  show  his  friendliness, 
that  was  too  plumb  vigorous  to  suit  'em;  and  some  of  the 
jokes  he  played  on  them  wasn't  taken  as  good-natured  as  a 
joke  ought  to  be  took  —  not  nearly  so  good-natured  as  he 
took  the  jokes  that  Jessie  played  on  him  right  along. 

"  She  wasn't  no  more  than  a  little  copy-cat  —  using  all 
the  old  stand-bys,  beginning  with  the  salt  in  the  lemonade ; 
but  I  reckon  she  done  her  best  for  a  beginner.  She  pulled 
his  chair  away  as  he  was  a-going  to  set  down ;  she  gave  him 
a  cigaret  that  she  had  rolled  herself,  with  a  pinch  of  pow- 
der in  the  tobacco;  she  blacked  the  sweatband  inside  his 
hat  with  soot  off  the  stove  lid  mixed  with  lard;  and  she 
locked  him  in  the  barn  for  a  whole  afternoon  when  he  went 
to  put  his  horse  in.  Tarrant  was  out  with  the  wagon  after 
pitch-pine  and  her  mother  was  in  the  kitchen  that  afternoon, 
so  nobody  seen  her. 

"  The  aggravating  thing  was  that  none  of  them  things 
she  done  to  him  panned  out  the  way  she  had  figured.  When 
she  pulled  the  chair  away  Pete  didn't  hardly  more'n  crook 
his  knees  and  throw  himself  a  little  forward  to  keep  his 
balance.  I  reckon  that  by  busting  broncos  which  is  apt  to 
make  sudden  and  unexpected  moves,  and  doing  it  as  a  , 
steady  job,  a  man  gets  a  little  extry  spry  and  hard  to  sur- 
prise. Anyway,  Pete  didn't  jar  the  floor  none  whatever, 
and  when  he  straightened  up  he  apologized  to  Miss  Jessie 
right  humble  for  having  his  chair  in  her  gangway.  When 
he  lit  her  loaded  cigaret,  what  with  the  way  she  had  rolled 
it  and  the  way  he  held  it,  he  didn't  so  much  as  singe  a  hair 
of  his  mustache,  and  the  blister  on  his  thumb  didn't  raise 


GETTING  EVEN  75 

until  later  on.  She  never  seen  it  and  he  didn't  mention  it. 
All  he  done  was  grin  at  her  like  he'd  grinned  at  Erickson. 

"  '  That's  good  tobacco,  Miss  Jessie/  he  says ;  '  free- 
burning  as  any  I  ever  smoked.  You  ain't  got  a  little  more 
that  you  could  spare,  have  you,  please,  ma'am  ? ' 

"  '  I  don't  believe  you  like  it  as  well  as  you  let  on,'  says 
Jessie,  a  considerable  disappointed. 

"  '  Not  for  smoking,  maybe,'  says  Pete ;  '  but  I  could  use 
it  for  blasting  stumps  on  our  claim.  I  didn't  tell  you  about 
that  claim  of  ours  on  Lower  Horsehead,  did  I  ?  I'm  plumb 
forgetful!  Why,  yes;  I  aim  to  take  you  out  there  pretty 
soon  to  see  how  you  are  going  to  like  it;  but  I  want  to  do 
a  little  fixing  up  first.  Them  stumps  is  right  where  you'll 
want  to  have  your  posies.' 

" '  I  guess  you're  mistaken,'  she  says.  *  They  won't  be 
no  more  in  the  way  of  any  posies  I  raise  than  if  they  was 
on  the  moon.' 

"  '  Maybe  that's  so,'  says  Pete.  '  If  we  build  the  house 
to  the  south  of  the  stumps,  so's  they'll  get  the  shade,  you 
might  grow  ferns  round  'em ;  but  I'll  leave  it  until  you  see. 
There  ain't  no  rush.' 

"  Jessie  said  she  hoped  there  wasn't  and  allowed  that  she 
heard  her  ma  calling  her. 

"  Similar,  when  she  fixed  his  hat.  He  put  it  on,  but  he 
seemed  to  sense  there  was  something  wrong  and  took  it 
off  again  and  looked  inside  and  run  his  finger  round  in  it. 

"  '  I  reckon  I  must  have  got  some  black  on  my  forehead,' 
he  says.  '  If  you'll  excuse  me  I'll  go  round  to  the  wash- 
bench  and  get  it  off.'  Which  he  done. 

"  And  when  she  locked  him  up  in  the  barn  he  stayed  so 
quiet  that  she  got  curious  along  about  sundown,  and  just 


76  GETTING  EVEN 

before  Tarrant  got  back  with  his  wood  she  went  out  and 
found  Mr.  Wallaby  curled  up,  fast  asleep  in  the  haymow. 
She  tiptoed  back  to  the  house  and  after  a  while  Pete  come 
in  and  apologized  to  her. 

" '  I  didn't  aim  to  take  more'n  about  fifty  winks  at  the 
outside  after  I  put  the  little  horse  up,'  he  says,  '  but  I  cer- 
tainly overslept.  I  sure  wasn't  polite  to  come  out  to  visit 
folks  and  then  sneak  out  to  the  barn  and  go  to  sleep 
without  even  saying  howdy.  I  hope  you'll  kindly  excuse 
me/ 

'  I  don't  know  as  you  was  so  much  to  blame,'  says  Jessie, 
trying  to  keep  a  straight  face.  '  Considering  that  there  was 
a  three-inch  iron  bar  and  a  padlock  in  the  way  of  your  get- 
ting out,  I  ain't  real  offended  —  specially  as  I  snapped  the 
padlock  on  you  myself.' 

"  Pete  looked  at  her  and  then  busted  out  into  one  of  his 
laughs. 

"  '  Oh  me,  oh  my ! '  he  says,  wiping  his  eyes.  '  Do  you 
reckon  I  was  too  blind  to  see  you  a-coming,  and  too  deef 
to  hear  you  wrastling  with  the  bar,  and  too  crippled  to  drop 
six  foot  down  to  the  ground  out  of  the  haymow  door  ?  Oh, 
gal !  Ho-ho-ho-ho ! ' 

" '  Stop  that  noise ! '  says  Jessie,  holding  her  fingers  to 
her  ears.  '  If  it  was  so  easy  to  get  out,  why  did  you 
stay  in  ? ' 

"  '  Because  I  allowed  you  wanted  me  to  stay  in,  of  course,' 
says  Pete.  '  Your  wishes  is  my  law  and  gospel.  Yes, 
ma'am!  And,  besides,  I  needed  that  sleep.  It  certainly 
done  me  a  heap  of  good.' 

"  That  made  Jessie  so  mad  she  couldn't  see  straight,  and 
she  would  scarcely  speak  to  him  for  nearly  a  week  after  — 


GETTING  EVEN  77 

not  more  than  she  had  to.  It  certainly  looked  like  to  her 
that  she  wasn't  getting  even  with  Mr.  Wallaby  the  way  she 
figured  the  night  of  the  Blueblanket  dance,  and  she  hadn't 
begun  to  break  him  of  his  smart-Aleck  ways.  Setting  apart 
the  getting  even,  she  wasn't  sure  but  if  he  could  be  broke 
of  'em  he  wouldn't  be  so  dog-gone  revolting,  and  some  fool 
girl  or  another  might  take  a  notion  to  him  and  do  worse  than 
slap  her  brand  on  him.  She  wasn't  sure  but  what  his  com- 
ing round  all  the  time  and  making  a  nuisance  of  himself 
wasn't  just  because  he  knew  how  she  just  naturally  despised 
him  and  wanted  to  plague  her.  She  wasn't  sure.  That 
was  the  trouble  —  she  wasn't  sure ;  and  no  girl  likes  to  feel 
thataway.  It  makes  'em  uneasy  and  restless. 

"  But,  so  far  as  Pete's  motives  was  concerned,  he  set- 
tled her  mind  as  to  that  about  the  time  she'd  got  over  her 
mad.  One  morning  he  come  up  to  the  house  riding  his 
own  slabsided,  wicked-eyed  buckskin  and  leading  a  bright 
bay  with  one  white  stocking,  the  prettiest-shaped  and  sweet- 
est-gaited  little  horse  you  ever  seen,  and  slicked  up  so  he 
just  flashed  in  the  sun.  Jessie  was  out  in  the  yard  feeding 
her  chickens,  and  when  she  seen  that  picture  along  she 
dropped  her  pan  and  come  a-running. 

"  '  Oh,  you  beauty ! '  she  says.  '  You  beauty !  Where 
did  you  get  him,  Mr.  Wallaby  ? ' 

"'That  plug?'  says  Pete.  'Why,  I  just  kind  of  run 
acrost  him  a  month  or  two  ago.  I  think  I  traded  a  can  of 
tomatoes  for  him ;  but  I  allowed  that  if  I  had  luck  I  might 
get  something  I  wanted  worse  than  tomatoes.' 

"  Jessie  had  her  arm  round  the  bay's  neck  by  that  time, 
and  was  laying  her  cheek  against  him  and  loving  him  and 
talking  to  him  in  a  way  that  was  mighty  aggravating  and 


78  GETTING  EVEN 

tantalizing  and  provoking  to  a  human  male  who  had  to  sit 
and  watch  it.  The  bay  took  it  all  like  a  lamb  and  nuzzled 
her  right  back. 

" '  You  see  how  little  spent  he's  got,'  says  Pete.  '  Old 
Buck,  here,  would  bite  a  four-pound  mouthful  out  of  any- 
body who  tried  to  take  them  kind  of  liberties  with  him.  I 
wouldn't  wonder  but  the  tame-souled  little  son-of-a-gun 
would  let  you  ride  him.  Yes,  sir,  ma'am;  I  believe  he's 
that  meek  and  undignified.' 

"  Jessie  looked  at  him  and  let  her  eyes  talk  when  he  said 
that. 

" '  Well,  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  be  moving  on,'  says  Pete. 
*  I  just  stopped  on  my  way.  I  don't  know  but  what  I 
might  get  asked  to  light  and  rest  myself  a  spell.  I  couldn't 
have  stayed  though.  I've  got  to  find  somebody  to  take  him 
off  my  hands.  I  kind  of  hate  to  shoot  him.' 

" '  Do  you  sure  enough  want  to  trade  him  off  —  or  sell 
him  ? '  says  Jessie,  her  breath  coming  quick.  '  If  you  do 
and  if  you  don't  open  your  mouth  too  wide  on  the  price  I 
might  make  a  deal  with  you  myself.'  She  tried  to  say  it 
careless  and  easy,  but  she  was  too  excited  to  make  it  sound 
thataway.  Pete  only  laughed  and  shook  his  head,  and 
jerked  gentle  but  firm  on  the  bay's  hackamore. 

"  '  I  guess  I'll  be  moving,'  he  says.     '  So  long ! ' 

"  Jessie  stepped  back  as  he  started,  and  her  eyes  snapped 
and  then  filled  with  tears.  Pete  put  old  Buckskin  into  a 
lope  like  he  had  to  get  somewheres  in  a  hurry,  but  he  hadn't 
gone  a  dozen  jumps  before  he  wheeled  sharp  round  and 
trotted  up  to  the  barn,  chuckling  to  himself,  and  slipped 
off  and  opened  the  door. 

"  'Go  get  your  riding  skirt  on  while  I  saddle  up  for  you/ 


GETTING  EVEN  79 

he  called  over  his  shoulder.  '  I'll  bet  you  the  horse  against 
a  choke-cherry  p!e  that  I  beat  you.' 

"  Pete  Wallaby  was  one  of  the  swiftest  men  I  ever  see 
a-working  round  a  horse,  but  he  hadn't  quite  finished  buck- 
ling the  cinch  of  Jessie's  sidesaddle  when  she  come  a-run- 
ning  out  all  fixed  up  for  a  ride  and  with  the  quirt  that  Pete 
had  braided  for  her  dangling  at  her  wrist. 

" '  You  win  and  I  lose  a  can  of  tomatoes,'  says  Pete, 
grinning  at  her. 

"  She  laughed  like  a  tickled  kid. 

"  '  I  could  have  killed  you ! '  she  said.     '  You  torment ! ' 

"  Pete  stooped  and  held  out  his  hand,  and  she  put  her 
little  foot  in  it  and  went  up  into  the  saddle  like  a  bird  on  to 
a  twig.  The  next  moment  she  was  outside  the  bars  and 
streaking  it  over  the  flat,  squealing  with  joy,  and  the  bay 
running  like  a  scared  wolf. 

"  Pete  didn't  lose  no  time  following  her,  and  there  wasn't 
anything  in  the  country  that  his  ornery  buckskin  couldn't 
cover  with  dust  and  disgrace ;  but  for  the  first  mile  he  held 
back  just  for  the  pleasure  of  watching  that  girl  and  the  bay ; 
and  they  was  both  worth  the  watching,  let  me  tell  you. 
Every  once  in  a  while  Jessie  turned  in  her  saddle  and  waved 
her  hand  at  him,  and  Pete  swung  his  quirt  right  and  left 
as  if  he  was  pounding  old  Buck  along  the  best  he  knew; 
but  finally  he  slacked  on  the  bridle  and  rode  up  alongside. 

" '  How  do  you  like  him  ? '  he  asked  her. 

"  '  I  didn't  know  there  was  horses  like  him ! '  says  Jessie, 
her  face  just  alight.  *  He's  like  a  rocking-chair  on  wings 
and  springs,  and  a  mouth  like  velvet.'  She  pulled  in  a 
little.  '  And  see  him  single-foot !  And  how  easy  he  checks 
up!  Let's  go  again.' 


80  GETTING  EVEN 

"  They  went,  and  they  kept  on  a-going.  It  was  one  of 
them  bright  September  mornings  with  just  a  tang  of  cool 
in  the  air,  when  a  long  breath  is  almost  as  good  as  a  drink. 
And  them  two  took  several  long  breaths,  so  that  the  most 
of  the  ride  they  was  laughing  at  nothing  at  all  and  carry- 
ing on  like  a  couple  of  fools.  And  after  a  while  they  got 
to  the  high  broken  ground  above  Benton's,  where  you  can 
see  all  creation  and  quite  a  ways  over  the  edge;  and  they 
sat  down  there,  with  their  backs  against  a  warm  rock,  and 
et  a  light  lunch  of  chocolate  creams  from  a  fancy  box  all 
tied  up  with  ribbons  that  Pete  had  brought  along  rolled 
in  his  slicker,  while  the  horses,  with  their  bridles  dragging, 
cropped  at  the  short  grass. 

" '  My !  I've  just  naturally  got  to  have  that  horse,'  says 
Jessie. 

"  '  He's  yours,  ain't  he  ? '  says  Pete.  '  Didn't  you  win 
him  on  a  bet  ? ' 

" '  Don't  be  foolish ! '  she  says.  '  You  don't  suppose  I'd 
take  you  up  on  a  thing  like  that,  do  you?  Well,  I  guess 
not!' 

" '  I  was  afraid  you  was  a-going  to,'  says  Pete.  '  That's 
certainly  a  load  offen  my  mind,  because,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  bought  that  horse  and  broke  him  and  trained  him 
for  a  present  to  my  wife.' 

"  Jessie  looked  straight  out  at  the  scenery  for  quite  a 
spell.  After  a  while  she  says : 

"'I  didn't  know  —  that  you  had  a  wife.' 

"  Pete  kicked  a  rock  loose  with  the  heel  of  his  boot  and 
bent  over  to  pick  it  up  and  toss  it  over  the  bluff. 

"  '  Didn't  you  ?  '  he  says.  Then  he  pointed  over  to  where 
Horsehead  lay  like  a  curly  string  of  tinsel  off  a  Christmas 


GETTING  EVEN  81 

tree.  '  Over  there  in  a  line  with  that  dead  cedar  is  where 
I  picked  out  that  claim.'  He  turned  on  his  elbow  to  look 
at  her.  '  Why,  as  to  that,  I  ain't  got  no  wife  yet.  I  just 
got  nothing  but  hopes ;  but Geegosh ! ' 

"He  made  a  quick  move  and  got  his  arms  round  her; 
and  the  next  minute  she  was  sobbing  on  his  shirt  bosom 
like  her  little  heart  would  break.  Pete  couldn't  do  much 
more  than  pat  her  and  soothe  her;  but  she  lifted  her  face 
at  last  and  he  got  his  chance.  Jessie  took  it  pretty  well 
for  a  while ;  and  then  she  broke  away  with  a  jerk,  using  his 
ears  for  leverage. 

"  '  That's  one  more  thing  I'm  going  to  get  even  with 
you  for ! '  she  says,  blazing  out  at  him. 

"  '  You're  going  to  marry  me,  ain't  you,  honey  ? '  says 
Pete. 

"  '  I  —  I've  certainly  got  to  have  that  horse,'  she  says. 
'If  you'll  wait  till  the  first  of  next  April,  why,  then " 

"  I  thought  I  heard  wheels,"  said  the  old  bullwhacker. 
"  Pass  Creek  must  be  running  bankful  or  the  stage  would 
have  been  here  by  this  time,"  he  observed.  "  And  that  lad 
in  the  bunk  couldn't  have  had  no  sleep  for  a  week." 

"  Well,  did  Jessie  play  even  ?  "  inquired  the  stock  tender ; 
whereat  the  Hat  Creek  granger  gloomily  remarked  that  if 
she  married  him  she  did.  "  Tip's  married,  so  he  ought  to 
know,"  continued  the  stock  tender.  "  But  did  she  break 
him  of  his  joking,  Sam?" 

"  I  told  you  that  all  you  jokers  gets  broke  sooner  or 
later,"  replied  the  old  bullwhacker.  "  Yes,  she  married 
him,  and  they  went  to  live  on  the  Horsehead  claim.  For 
a  right  smart  of  a  while  it  was  give  and  take  with  them 


82  GETTING  EVEN 

and  Pete  had  to  do  most  of  the  taking.  One  time  she 
soaked  the  heads  of  all  the  matches  that  he  had  in  his  vest 
pocket  and  he  like  to  died  for  a  smoke  before  he  got  back ; 
another  time  she  put  mustard  in  his  boots  and  he  had  to 
quit  breaking  sod  and  sit  in  the  kitchen  with  his  feet  up  on 
a  chair  for  a  day  or  two  and  watch  her  fill  the  wood  box 
and  carry  in  the  water,  which  he  told  her  was  worse  pain 
than  his  feet. 

"  Frank's  claim  was  only  six  or  seven  miles  from  them, 
and  him  and  Frank  and  the  womenfolks  neighbored  a  con- 
siderable. But,  for  all  Jessie  done  to  show  him  the  error 
of  his  ways,  Pete  would  break  out  in  a  new  place  with  some 
monkey  trick  —  until  finally  Jessie  turned  loose  and  told 
him  just  what  she  thought  of  him.  It  was  right  after  Pete 
had  tied  the  flowers  off  her  best  hat  to  some  plants  in  the 
back  yard  that  wasn't  expected  to  bloom  for  a  month  or 
two.  I'm  bound  to  say  that  them  flowers  looked  pretty  too. 
Anyway,  she  opened  up  on  Pete  good  and  plenty. 

" '  You  big  grinning  lummox ! '  she  says,  stamping  her 
foot.  '  I  hate  the  sight  of  you !  And  what  possessed  me 
to  marry  you  I  can't  think.  I  always  did  hate  you.  I  wish 
I  had  died  before  I  ever  seen  you! ' 

"  Pete  turned  white. 

"  '  You  don't  mean  that,  Jessie  gal ! '  he  says.  . 

"  '  Don't  I  ? '  says  Jessie.  '  You  bet  I  do,  you  fool !  You 
fool!  I  hate  you,  and  I'd  like  never  to  see  your  silly 
face  again.' 

"Pete  didn't  say  nothing  to  that;  he  just  went  out  to 
the  barn  and  saddled  up  old  Buck  and  rode  off  like  the  devil 
was  after  him.  It  had  took  him  a  heap  by  surprise  what 
Jessie  had  said,  though  she'd  been  tumble  cranky  and  ugly 


GETTING  EVEN  83 

with  him  for  a  month  past  or  more,  acting  so  unreasonable 
that  he  didn't  hardly  know  what  to  make  of  it,  and  going 
off  by  herself  to  bawl  a  whole  lot;  whereas  she'd  always 
been  just  the  opposite,  and,  even  with  the  jokes,  they'd  had 
great  times  together  in  that  little  new  house. 

"  Anyway,  only  the  day  before  that,  Shorty  Williams 
had  been  after  Pete  to  take  a  shipment  of  cattle  for  him  to 
South  Omaha,  account  of  Harvey  Lowe,  who'd  generally 
took  them,  being  sick  with  a  broken  leg.  Pete  had  begged 
off,  but  now  he  begun  to  think  —  when  he  got  so's  he 
could  think  —  that  a  trip  to  Omaha  would  be  like  a  provi- 
dence. 

"  So  he  headed  for  the  Flying  V  and  found  it  wasn't  too 
late  to  get  the  job.  Before  he  left  he  sent  word  to  Jessie 
by  one  of  the  boys  to  say  where  he'd  gone  if  she  wanted 
to  write  to  him  in  care  of  the  commission  house;  and  he 
sent  word  to  Frank  Ellis  to  have  him  see  that  Jessie  didn't 
need  nothing,  and  to  take  her  to  Calico  Canon  if  she  wanted 
to  visit  her  folks. 

" '  I'll  wait  there  until  she  sends  for  me  too/  he  says 
to  himself. 

"  Whether  it  was  the  bullheaded  streak  in  him  and 
whether  Jessie  allowed  that  he'd  come  back  without  her 
sending  for  him,  I  don't  know.  What  I  do  know  is  that 
Pete  stayed  in  Omaha  for  the  best  part  of  two  months,  tak- 
ing a  job  in  the  stockyards  to  pass  the  time.  Frank  Ellis 
said  that  he  didn't  look  as  if  he  had  been  enjoying  himself 
when  he  got  back  —  sort  of  like  he'd  been  wrung  out  and 
drawed  through  a  knothole,  and  his  eyes  like  two  burnt 
holes  in  a  blanket.  He  stopped  at  Frank's  place,  but  he 
would'nt  get  off  his  horse. 


84  GETTING  EVEN 

" '  Is  everything  all  right  up  at  the  house  ? '  he  asks, 
kind  of  croaking.  '  Jessie's  all  right,  ain't  she  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  yes,'  says  Frank.  '  Ain't  you  seen  her  ?  The 
last  I  heard  she  was  looking  fine  and  feeling  fine.  Didn't 
you  know  she  was  at  the  canon  with  her  folks  ? ' 

" '  I  don't  know  nothing/  says  Pete.  '  I  missed  con- 
nections with  my  mail  and  I  just  got  back.  She's  all  right, 
is  she?' 

"  Frank  looked  at  him  kind  of  curious. 

"  '  I  told  you,'  he  says. 

" '  Well,  what  are  you  looking  at  me  thataway  for  ? ' 
says  Pete,  glaring  at  him. 

"  *  You  ain't  heard  nothing  ? '  says  Frank.  '  Nothing 
at  all?' 

" '  I'll  get  down  off  this  horse  and  squeeze  it  out  of  your 
throat  if  you'd  rather/  says  Pete,  snarling. 

"  '  Oh,  well ! '  says  Frank.  '  I'll  tell  you  this  much  then : 
You'd  better  get  over  to  the  canon  and  look  after  things. 
Jessie  seems  to  have  took  up  with  a  young  fellow  —  a 

stranger  in  these  parts  —  that Well,  there's  been  talk 

about  it.  He's  a  good-looking  boy,  and  he's  with  your  wife 
the  most  of  the  time  lately.  I  guess ' 

"  '  You're  a  low-down  liar ! '  says  Pete,  very  slow  and 
very  earnest. 

"  He  looked  at  Frank  for  a  moment,  but  Frank  didn't 
say  nothing;  only  grinned  sort  of  foolish. 

" '  The  next  time  I  see  you  I'll  kill  you  as  sure  as  God 
made  little  apples,  unless  you  kill  me  first/  says  Pete;  and 
with  that  he  turned  and  rode  off. 

"  Frank  hollered  at  him  once  or  twice,  but  he  didn't 
pay  no  attention.  About  a  mile  from  Tarrants'  he  stopped 


GETTING  EVEN  *5 

and  took  his  gun  from  the  scabbard  and  looked  it  over. 
Then  he  rode  on  to  the  house  and  knocked  at  the  door. 
Mrs.  Tan-ant  opened  it  and  she  didn't  look  tickled  to  death 
to  see  him. 

"  '  Oh,  you've  come  back,  have  you  ? '  she  says. 

" '  Yes,  ma'am/  says  Pete,  quiet  and  sober.  '  I've  come 
back.  Where's  Jessie?' 

" '  She's  in  the  setting  room,'  says  the  old  lady ;  '  but  I 
don't  know  as  you'd  better  go  a-busting  in.  She's  got ' 

" '  She's  got  company,  I  presume,'  says  Pete  in  the  same 
slow,  quiet  way.  '  That's  what  they  tell  me.  I  guess 
I'll  see  the  company,  too,  please,  ma'am,  if  you'll  let  me 
pass.' 

" '  I  don't  like  the  way  you  look,  Peter,  or  the  way  you 
act/  says  Mrs.  Tarrant,  still  blocking  the  gangway.  '  You 
There !  You've  woke  him/ 

"  There  was  a  sound  come  from  the  room  beyond,  a 
sound  that  there  ain't  nothing  on  earth  like  it  except  cats. 
A  cat  comes  a-nigh  it  sometimes.  It  rose  up  full  and 
strong,  and  Pete  staggered  back  as  he  heard  it.  It  was 
Jessie's  company  calling  for  nourishment  or  complaining 
of  a  pain. 

"'My  Lord!'  he  says.     'Great  Geegosh!     Is  that  it?' 

"  The  next  minute  he  let  out  a  yell  that  would  have  woke 
up  all  the  babies  for  a  mile  round. 

"  '  Jessie !  Oh,  Jessie  gal ! '  And  he  started  for  the 
setting  room  just  as  Jessie  flung  open  the  door  and  made  a 
flying  leap  into  his  arms." 

The  stock  tender  swore  sotto  voce. 

"  You  ought  to  know  better  than  to  whoop  like  that !  "  he 
told  the  old  bullwhacker  reproachfully. 


86  GETTING  EVEN 

The  three  listened  and  a  slight  noise  came  from  the  stage 
barn. 

"  I  told  you  so !  "  said  the  stock  tender.  "  And  here's 
the  stage  a-coming  through  the  Gap,  too." 

More  noises  from  the  barn;  this  time  produced  by  the 
human  voice  —  language  unmistakably  wrathful,  loudly 
and  shockingly  profane,  fluent  and  threatening. 

"  I  thought  you  was  making  a  mistake  to  leave  that  there 
shaving  mirror  of  yours  hanging  where  he  could  see  it  when 
he  woke,  Hank,"  remarked  the  old  bullwhacker  mildly.  "  I 
thought  so  at  the  time." 

Spurs  clanked  on  the  barn  floor ;  and,  with  a  step  indicat- 
ing direct  purpose  and  instant  action  and  his  painted  visage 
diabolically  contorted,  the  Z  Bell  boy  emerged  into  the  sun- 
light and  made  straight  for  the  stock  tender,  who,  after  a 
second's  hesitation,  retreated  to  the  shed  where  the  change 
of  horses  for  the  stage  was  tied,  harnessed  for  a  rapid 
transfer. 

To  jerk  a  halter  loose  and  leap  to  the  back  of  one  of  the 
animals  was,  for  the  stock  tender,  the  work  of  an  instant ; 
and  he  escaped  from  the  shed  just  in  time  to  evade  the  out- 
raged Mr.  Pollett,  who  promptly  jumped  on  another  of  the 
horses  and,  lashing  it  to  a  gallop  with  the  end  of  the  halter 
rope,  took  up  the  chase. 

"  We're  sure  getting  that  break  in  the  monotony  of  our 
dull  lives,"  the  old  bullwhacker  remarked,  grinning  happily 
as  he  and  the  Hat  Creek  granger  watched  the  progress  of 
the  race.  "  Them  horses  is  about  an  even  match  and  I 
doubt  if  they  stop  this  side  of  the  Cheyenne." 

He  chuckled  and  then  lifted  up  his  voice  in  a  shrill  whoop 
of  encouragement. 


GETTING  EVEN  87 

"  I  was  a-going  to  say  that  Pete  Wallaby  never  played 
another  joke  on  anybody  from  that  day  to  this,"  he  re- 
sumed after  an  interested  pause.  "  I  reckon  by  the  time 
Hank  gets  through  with  him,  he'll  be  a  leetle  mite  careful 
in  future  himself." 


Ill 


/TT*HEY  were  watching  the  stock  tender  of  the  Box  Elder 
•••  stage  station  as  he  nervously  put  the  finishing  touches 
to  the  midday  meal  —  Jay  Slyfield,  the  Hermosilla  store- 
keeper, and  Lon  Selby,  the  lately  elected  young  district  at- 
torney. These  two  had  arrived  in  a  buckboard  an  hour  or 
two  before  with  a  sizable  bag  of  sage  hens,  which  they  had 
slaughtered,  not  wantonly,  but  under  the  impression  that 
they  were  prairie  chickens.  The  old  bullwhacker  was  pres- 
ent, almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  almost  equally  of 
course  "  shooting  off  his  fool  mouth,"  as  the  stock  tender 
expressed  it. 

Disregarding  this  rudeness  the  old  bullwhacker  continued 
to  remark  admiringly  upon  the  stock  tender's  deft  culinary 
motions.  "  It's  a  real  pleasure  to  look  at  him,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  His  arms  ain't  what  you  might  call  dimpled  and 
his  apron  might  be  cleaner  and  his  ankles  trimmer,  and 
I  ain't  excusing  or  palliating  what  he  said  when  he  took, 
a-holt  of  that  hot  skillet  handle,  which  wasn't  ladylike ;  but 
all  the  same  you  can  see  that  he's  working;  and  indus- 
triousness  and  perspiration  in  others  is  beautiful  to  be- 
hold. And  I've  seen  women  that  was  worse  cooks  than 
Hank  is  when  he's  spreading  himself  for  honored  guests." 

"  But  I  don't  see  no  pie,"  observed  Slyfield  in  a  stage  un- 
dertone.   "  He  must  be  sort  of  weak  and  futile  on  pie  or 

88 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  89 

he'd  have  made  a  stagger  at  it.  That's  where  a  woman 
puts  it  all  over  these  leathery  old  sour-doughs.  If  anything 
would  make  me  marry  it  would  be  pie.  Lemon-cream  pie, 
custard  pie,  ros'b'ry  pie,  mince  —  light,  flaky  brown  crusts 
and  juicy  innards !  Ah-h-h-h ! "  Jay  smacked  his  lips 
loudly. 

"If  anything  would  make  you  marry  it  would  be  finding 
a  woman  crazy  enough  to  take  you,"  the  stock  tender  re* 
joined  as  he  flopped  the  potatoes  into  a  bowl.  "  But  there 
ain't  none  such,"  he  added,  scraping  out  the  flour  gravy, 
"  I  ain't  got  no  exalted  opinion  of  the  female  mind,  but  it 
don't  get  that  unhinged.  Grub  pile !  " 

For  fifteen  or  twenty  busy  minutes  there  was  no  table 
talk  beyond  necessary  requests,  but  at  the  prune  stage  of 
the  repast,  discussion  of  woman,  marriage  and  cookery  was 
resumed.  Slyfield  maintained  that  though  bachelor  exist- 
ence had  its  inconveniences,  connubial  bliss  was  obviously 
a  paradoxical  phrase.  In  support  of  this  contention  he  re- 
lated several  instances,  modern  and  ancient,  and  appealed 
to  the  stock  tender,  who  opined  that  marriage  —  carried 
to  excess,  at  least  —  was  to  be  classed  among  the  bad  habits. 
Witness  their  mutual  friend,  Lee  McArthur,  who  had  just 
been  sent  up  by  Judge  Moody  for  his  eighth  indulgence, 
on  complaint  of  his  second  and  fifth. 

Selby  argued  that  this  testimony  was  incompetent,  im- 
material and  irrelevant,  proving  only  criminal  carelessness 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  McArthur,  and  tending  rather  to  sup- 
port the  theory  of  connubial  bliss  but  for  the  divine  dis- 
content indicated  by  the  same  flitting  from  flower  to  flower, 
which  made  the  first  hypothesis  absurd,  illogical  and  im- 
proper; exitus  acta  probat. 


90  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  In  other  words,"  said  Selby,  "  Mac  was  a  hopeful 
cuss,  who  played  against  a  long  run  of  bad  luck.  Me,  I'd 
marry  in  a  holy  minute  if  I  could  meet  up  with  the  right 
kind  of  a  lady ;  but  I'm  a  partcular  man  and  I'd  hate  to  be 
everlastingly  chopping  and  changing  from  one  wife  to  an- 
other. I'd  want  to  make  dead  sure." 

Upon  this  the  old  bullwhacker  was  seized  with  a  con- 
vulsion that  started  at  his  diaphragm  and  worked  upward 
in  a  series  of  seismic  waves  to  his  shoulders  and  found  vent 
in  a  disappointingly  brief  chuckle  or  two,  as  a  prelude  to 
the  following  narrative: 

You  remind  me  of  Clyde  Britten.  Clyde  wanted  to  make 
dead  sure.  Clyde  had  ideas  on  the  subject  of  marriage 
and  he'd  got  his  notion  of  what  a  girl  would  have  to  be 
to  make  him  perfectly  happy  and  contented  like  he  had 
a  right  to  expect  to  be.  If  there  was  anything  Clyde  prided 
himself  on  it  was  good  hard  horse  sense  and  looking  before 
he  leaped.  He'd  stand  on  the  brink  of  a  chassum  for  days 
and  weeks  at  a  time,  and  longer  if  necessary,  with  his  hand 
shading  his  straining  eyes  and  his  knees  ready  bent  until 
the  pale  mists  sort  of  cleared  off  and  let  him  see  the  other 
side.  Then  maybe  he'd  leap,  and  maybe  he  wouldn't,  but 
if  he  did  he'd  most  always  land  with  both  feet.  He'd, 
landed  general  manager,  head  clerk  and  chief  roustabout 
of  the  Blueblanket  express  office  thataway,  and  looking 
ahead  he  couldn't  see  no  obstructions  but  a  few  years'  time 
to  a  good  paying  job  in  the  Deadwood  branch.  He  was 
only  twenty-five  years  old  then,  and  he  could  afford  a  little 
time.  Yes,  that  was  him.  Same  identical  boy.  Used  to 
be  at  Blueblanket. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  91 

The  only  trouble  with  him  then  was  that  waiting  all  by 
himself  he  got  kind  of  lonesome.  What  he  needed  was  a 
congenial  companion  to  take  an  undivided  half  interest  in 
his  welfare  and  the  condition  of  his  socks.  This  thing  of 
bedding  down  on  a  cot  in  the  office  and  boarding  round 
places  that  wasn't  no  better  than  the  last  place  got  kind  of 
old  to  Clyde.  I  gathered  that  from  what  he  told  me  and 
from  his  actions.  I  reckon  most  boys  get  thataway  if  they 
ain't  too  busy  helling  round.  The  ticking  of  the  little  old 
tin  clock  ain't  no  good  substitute  for  the  music  of  a  loved 
voice,  and  talking  to  yourself  gets  monotonous  anyway. 
Even  having  a-plenty  of  reading  matter  round  the  shack 
don't  help  much,  and  the  first  thing  you  know  you're  plan- 
ning out  a  program  of  this  here  connubial  bliss. 

It  sure  looks  like  a  dead  open-and-shut  proposition  as 
well  as  a  real  pious  idea ;  blissful,  all  right,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  heap  practical.  About  all  there  is  lacking  is  a  girl 
to  fit  into  the  scheme,  and  that  part  of  it  is  easy  as  falling 
off  a  log.  You  can  find  a  girl  anywhere  —  some  sort  of  a 
girl  —  and  that's  the  kind  you  get.  She  ain't  cross-eyed, 
nor  pigeon-toed,  nor  hump-backed,  nor  over  thirty  at  the 
outside,  and  gosh !  how  she  loves  you !  It's  sure  touching 
the  way  she  looks  up  to  you  and  admires  you  after  she's 
quit  deviling  and  got  down  to  cases.  If  you  find  later  on 
that  there's  some  little  things  about  her  that  you  don't  ex- 
actly approve  of  —  it  ain't  likely ;  but  supposing  there  was 
—  why  she'd  sure  be  glad  to  change  to  suit  you.  Sure ! 

Now  Clyde  wasn't  that  foolish.  He  hadn't  not  only 
read  the  papers  but  he'd  run  acrost  one  or  two  cases  him- 
self where  young  men  had  leaped  into  preachers'  back  par- 
lors and  justices'  offices  like  these  here  bounding  gazelles 


92  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

you  hear  about,  and,  years  after,  had  owned  up  that  if 
they'd  looked  ahead  a  little  first  ropes  couldn't  have  drug 
them,  as  long  as  there  was  something  for  them  to  grab  and 
hang  onto.  They  didn't  make  no  bones  of  saying  that  they 
had  been  real  disappointed  in  the  ladies  that  they  thought 
they  had  chosen.  There  was  points  of  difference  between 
what  they  figured  them  ladies  was  and  what  they  turned 
out  to  be,  and  every  dad-blamed  point  was  sharp  and  barbed 
and  poisoned  with  gall  and  bitterness.  And  all  because 
they  had  took  everything  for  granted  in  a  way  that  would 
have  covered  them  with  hot  shame  if  it  had  been  a  horse 
that  they  had  acquired  similarly  heedless.  But  Clyde  knew 
better. 

"  Me,  I'd  marry  in  a  holy  minute  if  I  could  meet  up  with 
the  right  kind  of  a  lady,"  says  Clyde  to  me  one  time  when 
he'd  got  a  confidential  streak  on  him.  "  But  I'm  sort  of 
particular,"  he  says,  "  and  I'd  take  at  least  a  day  or  two 
off  beforehand  to  investigate  into  the  lady's  accomplish- 
ments and  disposition,  and  then  I'd  keep  her  under  observa- 
tion for  a  spell.  If  she  come  up  to  specifications  in  every 
respect  it  wouldn't  take  me  long  to  decide  whether  I  wanted 
her  or  not,  and  once  I  decide  I  sure  make  the  lurid 
levin  bolt  hump  to  keep  up  with  me  in  the  matter  of 
action." 

"  Son,"  says  I,  "you  are  wise  beyond  your  years.  If  all 
young  men  was  like  you  this  here  divorce  evil  would  die 
for  want  of  nourishment.  I  reckon  the  marriage  evil  would 
be  some  debilitated,  too,  specially  if  all  the  young  women 
was  to  get  equally  cagy.  But,  be  that  as  it  may  or  may  not 
or  couldn't  possibly,  I'd  like  to  know  what  them  specifica- 
tions of  yours  is.  I  travel  quite  a  heap  between  this  and 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  93 

Sidney,  and  I  might  find  you  something  like  it  on  the  way. 
What  kind  of  a  young  lady  would  you  want,  son?" 

He  studied  a  while  before  he  spoke,  looking  right  pro- 
found for  an  apple-cheeked  young  slim-jim  with  a  smear  of 
brown  mustache.  "  Well,  Mr.  Stegg,"  he  says  finally,  "  I'd 
want,  the  first  thing,  a  girl  with  a  cheerful  and  amiable 
nature.  I  don't  mean  right  on  the  everlasting  giggle  and 
grin,  but  sweet  and  serene,  so  to  speak." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  talk  thataway,  Clyde,"  says  I. 
"  The  most  of  you  young  bucks  want  her  to  be  a  daisy 
looker  the  first  thing  and  the  last  thing,  forgetting  that 
beauty's  charms  decay,  as  the  fellow  says,  and  golden  hair 
turns  gray  —  if  it's  let  to  —  while  a  sunshiny  sperrit  is  a 
crown  of  rubies  that  never  dieth  and  moths  can't  break  in 
and  rust.  You've  got  a  level  head,  boy.  It's  the  peaches 
that  makes  all  the  trouble  in  this  world." 

"  I  don't  say  that  having  the  general  aspects  of  a  mud 
fence  would  be  any  recommendation,"  says  Clyde.  "  I'd 
want  her  to  be  good  looking  too.  I  reckon  I  couldn't  be 
perfectly  happy  with  a  girl  that  wasn't  restful  to  the  eyes 
after  a  long  all-day  strain  on  waybills  and  tariff  sheets. 
Beauty  ain't  no  drawback  if  it  goes  with  sense  and  intel- 
ligence, and  Mrs.  Clyde  Britten  would  be  sensible  and 
intelligent.  Not  so  much  so  that  she'd  be  setting  up  her 
judgment  against  mine  and  starting  arguments,  but  not 
empty-headed  and  foolish,  like  some  I  could  name.  I'd 
want  her  to  be  an  educated  and  refined  lady  that  could 
move  in  the  best  circles  in  Deadwood  and  do  me  credit  and 
have  domestic  tastes  and  know  how  to  make  a  good  loaf  of 
bread  and  put  up  preserves  and  all  such  and  keep  down  ex- 
penses. If  she  had  a  little  money  of  her  own  it  wouldn't 


94  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

hurt  nothing,  if  it  didn't  make  her  too  blame  independent. 
She  could  fix  it  so  that  the  children  could  get  it  if  she 
wanted  to.  I  wouldn't  stick  out  for  that  though.  A  man 
can't  get  everything.  It  wouldn't  be  reasonable  to  expect 
it,  and  I  ain't  unreasonable,  I  hope." 

"  Considering  what  the  girl  would  get,  I  think  you're 
more  than  reasonable,"  I  told  him.  "  Here  you  are,  hand- 
some and  high-spirited  and  well-conducted  and  brainy  and 
polite  and  popular.  You're  drawing  down  sixty  a  month 
as  regular  as  clockwork  and  you've  got  the  ambition  and 
business  ability  to  bring  it  up  to  seventy-five  or  a  hundred. 
I  never  seen  you  when  your  finger  nails  wasn't  clean ;  you're 
a  good  dancer  and  an  elegant  performer  on  the  guitar.  I 
ain't  saying  this  to  flatter  you;  I'm  just  stating  facts,  and 
you  can't  deny  'em/' 

"  No,  I  don't  know  as  I  can,"  says  Clyde.  "  Putting 
aside  all  false  modesty  and  such.  I  reckon  that  ain't  no 
more  than  the  truth.  I  don't  go  round  blowing  about  it, 
but  it's  so." 

And  it  was  so.  He  wouldn't  have  said  it  himself,  but 
he  knew  it  and  wasn't  ashamed  of  it.  Excepting  here 
and  there  a  crank  or  two,  all  Blueblanket  liked  Clyde.  He 
had  a  smile  and  a  pleasant  word  for  everybody,  even  if  he 
was  a  little  short  of  change,  and  you  could  go  into  the 
express  office  and  ask  him  all  the  fool  questions  you'd  a 
mind  to  and  he'd  answer  them  as  cheerful  and  accommodat- 
ing as  if  he  owned  the  business  himself  and  was  trying  to 
make  it  go  against  stiff  competition. 

"  But  the  poor  girl  died  quite  a  few  years  ago,  Clyde,"  I 
says. 

"  What  girl  ?  "  says  he.     "  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  95 

I  didn't  tell  him,  thinking  he  might  figure  it  out  for  him- 
self. I  allowed  at  that  time  that  he  had  an  elegant  chance 
of  finding  what  he  wanted  still  living,  but  it  was  just  one 
chance  in  a  million  or  two  against  it.  That's  where  I  missed 
my  guess. 

I  reckon  it  was  clost  onto  a  year  after  that  conversation 
that  I  come  into  Blueblanket  again  with  some  freight. 
Just  happened  thataway.  As  soon  as  I'd  got  my  bulls  cor- 
ralled and  fed  I  went  to  Henry  Frush's  to  feed  myself,  and 
there  was  Clyde  fresh  and  apple-cheeked  as  ever,  or  more 
so,  in  a  new-laundered  seersucker  coat  and  a  baby-blue 
necktie.  Myra  Frush  was  serving  him  just  as  I  come  in  — 
dropping  things  round  him,  sort  of,  in  a  way  that  sur- 
prised me.  I  took  notice  that  he  got  an  extry  small-sized 
piece  of  steak  cut  from  near  the  horns,  burned  in  the  middle 
and  pink  round  the  edges,  and  that  his  tomatoes  wasn't 
much  more  than  the  dab  of  a  teaspoon  in  the  dish,  and  his 
baked  potato  had  bad  skin  trouble.  I  also  noticed  that 
he  didn't  seem  to  mind  it  and  was  in  good  sperrits.  Myra 
gave  me  a  glad  smile  of  welcome,  which  I  sure  appreciated, 
she  being  considerable  of  a  girl,  with  the  liveliest  pair  of 
black  eyes  you  ever  seen,  and  teeth  as  white  as  her  eyes  was 
black,  and  plump  as  a  little  pattridge.  Her  and  me  was 
old  friends  too. 

"Hungry,  Mr.  Stegg?"  she  asks,  when  our  greetings 
was  over. 

"  Kind  of  finicky,  my  dear,"  I  says,  with  an  eye  on  Clyde's 
plate.  "  Poorly !  Poorly !  I  feel  like  my  appetite  needed 
temptation  to  overcome.  If  you  was  to  set  down  and  let 
me  feast  my  eyes  on  you  it  might  do  me  more  good  than 
mere  vittles." 


96  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

She  tossed  her  pretty  head.  "  Oh,  there's  girls  that's  a 
heap  more  worth  looking  at  than  what  I  am,  round  here," 
she  says.  "  I  might  take  away  what  little  appetite  you've 
got  if  you  gave  me  more'n  a  glance.  You'd  better  eat  first 
and  then  go  call  on  'em."  Saying  which,  she  turns  away 
and  kicks  into  the  kitchen. 

"  What's  biting  Myra  ?  "  I  asks  Clyde.  "  Seems  like  I've 
hurt  her  feelings  some  way." 

"  She  takes  streaks,"  says  Clyde.  "  She's  a  right  lovely 
girl  and  she  can  cook  when  she  wants  to,  but  somehow  I've 
found  her  sort  of  notional.  One  day  she's  as  pleasant  as 
a  basket  of  chips  and  the  next  time  you  see  her  she  ain't 
like  the  same  person  at  all."  He  sighed.  "  Too  bad !  "  he 
says,  "  because  otherwise  I  —  yes,  it's  too  bad  she's  like 
that.  I  reckon  that  the  man  she  gets  would  have  to  watch 
out  for  danger  signals  a  good  part  of  the  time  and  govern 
himself  according,  if  he  wanted  to  lead  a  peaceful  life 
right  along." 

"  I've  known  husbands  here  and  there  that  deemed  it 
advisable  to  do  that  with  their  wives,"  I  says.  "  You'll 
find  such  once  in  a  while.  But  if  there's  any  girl  in  Blue- 
blanket  that's  better  worth  looking  at  than  little  Myra  I'd 
like  to  see  her." 

Clyde  smiled  at  his  steak.  "  Well,  your  eyesight  don't 
seem  to  be  failing  yet,"  he  says.  "  If  you  was  to  stay  round 
Blueblanket  a  spell  I  don't  know  but  you  might  have  that 
pleasure.  The  city  ain't  got  so  populous  but  what  it's 
possible." 

"Yes?  "says  I. 

*'  Yes,"  says  he,  and  turned  the  smile  in  my  direction. 

"O-ho!"  says  I. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  97 

"  I  won't  say  you  are  wrong,"  says  he,  widening  it. 
Then,  looking  serious  and  lowering  his  voice,  he  says :  "  I 
know  that  you  wouldn't  repeat  nothing,  Mr.  Stegg,  and  I 
ain't  telling  it  round;  but  I  remember  we  was  talking  on 
the  subject  the  last  time  you  was  here.  Well,  sir,  I  won't 
say  I'm  quite  sure,  but  I  think  —  I  think  I've  found  the 
right  kind  of  a  young  lady." 

"  With  all  the  specifications  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  I  think  so,  Mr.  Stegg,"  he  says.  "  I've  been  calling 
quite  regular  for  the  best  part  of  a  year  now,  and  I  needn't 
say  that  I've  kept  my  eyes  open,  and  I'm  just  about  sure 
that  I  wouldn't  make  no  mistake  in  asking  her  to  be  mine. 
I've  compared  her  with  every  young  lady  that  I  ever  knew 
and  if  I  ain't  deceived,  which  wouldn't  be  very  easy  done, 
I  couldn't  reasonably  ask  for  more  desirable  qualities  than 
what  that  young  lady  has  got." 

"  You  say  she's  good  looking  ?  "  I  says. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  putting  it  too  strong  to  say  that  she's 
a  poet's  dream  of  beautiful  young  maidenhood,"  says  he, 
"  though  a  blonde." 

"  And  a  good  cook  ?  " 

"  Particular  gifted  that  way.     Far  out  of  the  common." 

"  Intelligent  ?  But  she  must  be  that.  Is  she  good- 
tempered  ?  " 

"  Unless  I'm  mistaken  she's  got  the  disposition  of  an 
angel  of  light,"  Clyde  says.  "  And  her  mother  told  me 
only  the  other  day  that  she  makes  her  own  dresses  and  trims 
her  own  hats.  It  just  come  up  in  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion ;  and  the  old  lady  owned  up  that  Margarita  was  a  bet- 
ter hand  at  buying  than  what  she  was  —  meat  and  groceries 
and  such.  She's  got  a  certificate  to  teach  eighth  grade 


98  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

school  —  not  the  old  lady;  Margarita  —  and  you  ought  to 
see  some  of  the  things  she's  painted,  hanging  up  in  the  set- 
ting room ! 

"  She  plays  the  organ  at  the  Baptist  Church,  and  the  at- 
tendance has  gone  up  sixty-five  per  cent  since  she  begun, 
the  Reverend  Gillick  tells  me." 

"At  first  blush  she  would  seem  to  be  worthy  of  you, 
Clyde,"  I  says.  "  But  don't  you  get  too  reckless  and  car- 
ried away  by  your  enthusiasm  and  emotions,  son,"  I  told 
him.  "  Remember  you  ain't  known  her  but  a  year  and  you 
might  have  overlooked  some  serious  drawback.  She  might 
just  regard  you  as  a  brother  or  a  very  dear  friend,  for  in- 
stance," I  says. 

"  I  ain't  afraid  of  that,"  he  says,  resuming  his  smile  and 
giving  a  twist  to  one  end  of  his  mustache.  "  I  might  say  — 
I  wouldn't  wish  for  it  to  go  no  further,  and  I  know " 

Just  then  the  kitchen  door  flew  open  before  Myra's  fairy 
foot  and  she  come  in  with  my  supper.  There  was  a  full- 
grown  man's-size  steak,  smoking  hot  and  browned  to  a  turn, 
with  a  lump  of  butter  on  it  melting  and  running  down  to 
mingle  with  the  red  juice ;  the  tomatoes  was  more  than  lib- 
eral and  inviting,  and  an  Irish  dermatology  specialist  couldn't 
have  found  nothing  wrong  with  the  potatoes  I  got.  Besides 
that  there  was  biscuit  right  out  of  a  fresh  pan  in  the  oven, 
and  a  big  wedge  of  layer  cake  and  a  dish  of  elegant  prunes. 

"  If  you  can't  eat  this  layout  I'll  bring  you  a  bowl  of  sage 
tea  and  heat  up  some  bricks  to  put  to  your  feet,"  says  Myra. 
"Catchup?  Don't  touch  that  bottle;  it  ain't  fresh.  I'll 
open  a  new  one.  You  tell  me  if  the  coffee  ain't  the  way 
you  like  it.  How  would  you  like  some  eggs?  It  wouldn't 
take  more  than  a  minute  to  fry  up  a  few  for  you.  I'd  clean 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  99 

forgot  you  was  fond  of  eggs.  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
myself.  Well,  tell  me  anything  that  you  would  like,  Mr. 
Stegg,  and  I'll  be  tickled  to  death  to  get  it  for  you.  Ma's 
fixing  up  her  hair  to  come  in  to  see  you." 

Clyde  got  up  and  handed  her  his  meal  ticket  to  punch, 
which  she  done  in  the  same  careless,  chilly,  high-toned  way 
that  she'd  dealt  his  grub.  Clyde  looked  at  the  ticket  when 
she'd  give  it  back,  and  seen  that  she'd  punched  the  previous 
hole  twice,  which  he  mentioned.  "  I  don't  want  to  take 
advantage  of  you  and  get  a  supper  free,"  he  says,  smiling 
at  her. 

Myra's  black  eyes  snapped  simultaneous  with  the  second 
punch,  and  her  red  cheeks  got  redder.  "  I  hope  you  en' 
joyed  your  supper,  Mr.  Britten,"  she  says,  sort  of  dis~ 
dainful. 

"  I'm  truthful,  as  well  as  honest,  Miss  Frush,"  says 
Clyde.  "  I  didn't  enjoy  my  supper.  Being  you  mentioned 
it  I  ain't  enjoyed  a  meal  here  for  a  month  or  two,  except- 
ing when  your  ma  or  Hilda  has  served  it  to  me.  Not  that 
I  mind.  I  just  happened  to  think  of  it  when  you  spoke." 

"  Maybe  if  you  prospected  round  town,  sort  of,  and  tried 
'em  all  out  again  you  might  find  a  place  to  eat  that  would 
suit  you  in  all  respects,"  says  Myra. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  wouldn't,"  says  Clyde,  as  good-natured 
as  you  please.  "  It's  like  Mr.  Stegg  says :  Looking  at  you 
does  a  man  more  good  than  mere  vittles." 

"  I'll  thank  you  not  to  talk  to  me  thataway,"  she  says, 
and  flounces  off  into  the  kitchen  again. 

Clyde  grinned  at  me  and  then  shook  his  head. 
"  Streaky !  "  he  says.  "  She  never  minded  me  talking  to 
her  thataway  before.  Well,  I'd  like  to  stop  and  gas  with 


100  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

you  a  while  but  I'm  due  elsewhere.  I  reckon  you'll  be 
pulling  out  bright  and  early  in  the  morning,  so  I  won't  be 
apt  to  see  you  again  for  a  while;  but  when  you  hit  Blue- 
blanket  again  you're  likely  to  find  that  I've  decided  in  that 
matter  we  was  speaking  about,  and  acted  according." 

I  told  him  that  probably  I  wouldn't  be  back  again  for  a 
year  or  two,  and  maybe  by  that  time  the  matter  we  was 
speaking  of  would  be  settled  one  way  or  another,  like  he 
presumed  it  would  be.  I  wouldn't  have  bet  heavy  on  it 
just  then,  but  the  next  morning  I  found  that  old  Buck,  my 
nigh  wheeler,  had  busted  the  last  bow  I'd  got  and  I  had  to 
wait  until  Albien  opened  up  his  store  to  get  me  a  new  set, 
and  whilst  I  was  in  there  Old  Man  Fletcher  happened  in 
and  allowed  that  he  needed  a  couple  of  yoke  of  well-broke 
good-pulling  critters  to  rip  up  an  eighty  of  tough  sod,  and 
I  figured  that  I  might  spare  him  what  he  wanted  from  my 
outfit  and  pick  up  some  likely  three-year-olds  to  fill  the 
gap ;  and  while  he  was  talking  about  it,  kind  of  casual,  here 
comes  a  flood  of  golden  sunshine  and  a  flock  of  nightingales 
into  the  store  and  takes  my  attention  plumb  off  what  I  was 
a-saying  to  Old  Man  Fletcher  and  what  Old  Man  Fletcher 
was  a-saying  to  me. 

"  Who  was  that  ? "  I  asked  Henry  Albien  when  she'd 
got  her  pound  of  butter  and  gone  out,  a-leaving  us  in  sud- 
den gloom. 

"  Margarita  Biglow,"  says  Henry.  "  Her  folks  come 
here  from  out  near  Sundance  about  a  year  ago  and  the  old 
man  bought  out  Mackay's  harness  store.  A  right  nice 
family.  Clyde  Britten  ought  to  be  able  to  tell  you  more 
about  Margarita  than  anyone  else,  but  in  a  general  way 
I'd  say  that  she  was  prominent  among  them  present  when 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  101 

good  looks  was  handed  out  and  wasn't  slighted  none  in  the 
distribution.  I'll  go  as  far  as  to  say  that,"  he  says. 

I'd  have  went  that  far.  I'd  have  said  she  got  the  bluest 
eyes  there  was  in  stock  at  the  time,  and  the  cunningest  little 
nose  and  the  sweetest,  smilingest  mouth  and  goldenest  hair 
and  the  gracefulest  curves.  And  when  they  picked  the 
voice  to  go  with  them  features  —  where  they  don't  always 
show  the  best  judgment  or  even  the  kindest  intentions  — 
they  sure  gave  that  girl  a  voice  worth  listening  to.  And 
there  wasn't  not  a  flicker  of  an  eyelash  nor  the  swing  of 
a  skirt  to  show  that  she  had  any  idea  that  she  was  anyways 
favored  by  Nature.  That  was  what  I  liked  about  her. 

"  If  you  ain't  interested  and  don't  want  to  talk  trade, 
just  say  so,  and  I  won't  waste  no  more  time,"  says  Old  Man 
Fletcher,  breaking  in  on  my  musings  and  waking  me  up. 
So  I  took  him  over  to  the  corral  to  see  the  two  yoke  I  had 
in  mind  to  part  with  if  compelled  to,  and  before  the  morn- 
ing was  over  I'd  sold  them  to  him.  Then  not  to  lose  no 
time  I  got  me  a  horse  from  the  livery  and  rode  out  to 
the  Z  Bell  ranch  to  look  over  a  bunch  of  steers  I'd  heard  of. 
On  the  way  I  done  a  considerable  speculating  about  Cau- 
tious Clyde,  and  a  considerablef  about  Margarita.  Seemed 
like  almost  from  the  first  Clyde  had  had  the  inside  track 
with  her.  He'd  got  all  them  advantages  that  I've  men- 
tioned, which  the  other  boys  round  town  hadn't  got,  and 
while  there  had  been  some  competition  at  first  Margarita 
didn't  encourage  none  of  it.  Seemed  like  she'd  made  up 
her  mind  what  she  wanted  and  was  willing  to  wait  till  she 
got  it.  I  figured  that  she  must  be  tolerable  sure  of  getting 
it  in  the  long  run,  and  could  afford  to  wait.  I'm  great  on 
figuring  out  things,  me. 


102  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

Well,  as  I  was  a-saying,  I  got  to  the  Z  Bell,  and  I  was 
shacking  up  to  the  ranch  house  when  a  shock-headed, 
sawed-off,  brown-faced,  wide-mouthed,  barrel-chested, 
bow-legged  young  son-of-a-gun  come  skittering  up  behind 
me  and  letting  out  a  yelp,  swatted  me  between  the  shoul- 
der blades  with  a  hand  that  seemed  mostly  extry  solid  and 
heavy  bone.  I  swung  round  with  purposes  and  intents  to 
paste  him  prompt  and  plenty,  but  he  ducked  under  my  arm 
and  spurred  ahead,  taking  me  with  him  and  leaving  my 
horse  behind.  I  accompanied  him  a  couple  of  rods  in  his 
rush,  and  then  he  pulled  up  short  and  dropped  me  easy  on 
my  feet,  letting  out  another  whoop. 

I  reckon  I'd  have  had  that  boy's  blood  on  my  soul  in 
something  less  than  ten  seconds  but  for  two  or  three  rea- 
sons. One  was  that  I  hadn't  got  no  gun  nor  no  breath, 
and  the  next  was  that  he  had  slipped  out  of  his  saddle  and 
was  shaking  me  by  the  shoulders  like  I  was  a  sieve  of  sand ; 
the  third  reason  was  I'd  got  a  quick  look  at  him  before  he 
grabbed  me  for  the  second  time  and  I  reco'nized  him :  Bob 
Nivens,  from  up  the  Powder  River,  the  toughest  and  worst 
little  imp  of  Satan  for  a  right  well-meaning  boy  that  ever 
risked  his  neck  and  reputation,  free,  glad  and  willing,  when- 
ever and  wherever  there  wasn't  no  occasion  for  it  in  the 
world.  And  this  here  manhandling  wasn't  nothing  but  a 
mark  of  his  esteem  and  affection. 

"You  — bleary  — old  — blister!"  says  he.  "You  — 
salivated  —  old  —  sagebrush  —  salamander  —  you !  —  Dog- 
gone —  my " 

I  got  my  knee  well  home  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach  and 
broke  his  hold ;  but  he  come  at  me  again,  his  mouth  stretched 
in  a  five-inch  grin  full  of  white  teeth. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  103 

"  Dog-gone  my  wild  heart !  I'm  tickled  to  see  you !  "  he 
says.  "  I  knowed  you  by  the  lop  of  your  ears  a  mile  away 
back. 

"  Who  chased  you  thisaway,  anyway  ?    How " 

"  Keep  away  from  me  or  I'll  do  you  a  mischief,"  I  says. 
"  I  ain't  swallowed  no  fishbone,  nor  I  ain't  going  to  be 
treated  like  a  tough  steak.  You  may  shake  me  by  the  hand 
if  you  want  to,  but  if  you  ain't  gentle  about  it  I'll  show  you 
what  real  rough  acting  is.  And  now  you  might  as  well  tell 
me  what  name  you're  going  by  here,  so's  I  won't  embarrass 
you  before  folks,"  I  says. 

"  I'm  going  by  the  name  of  Mr.  Nivens,  now  and  here," 
he  says.  "  As  foreman  and  manager  of  this  here  outfit 
I'm  to  be  addressed  with  humble  respectfulness ;  but  I'll  let 
you  call  me  Bob  in  private  for  the  sake  of  old  times.  Come 
on  in  and  we'll  eat.  One  of  the  boys  will  look  after  that 
old  plug  of  yours." 

Naturally  I  thought  he  was  codding,  but  it  didn't  take 
no  more  than  the  way  he  talked  to  the  cook  to  give  me  a 
suspicion  that  he  might  be  telling  the  truth,  and  when  the 
said  cook  brought  the  grub  strictly  according  to  directions 
and  waited  on  us  himself  I  didn't  need  no  more  evidence. 
Of  course  nobody  but  one  of  the  boys  —  a  kid  —  called  him 
Mr.  Nivens,  but  Bobby  was  boss,  all  right. 

I  don't  know  nothing  in  this  here  world  that's  harder  for 
a  man  to  believe  than  that  some  young  snipe  that  he's 
known  and  maybe  spanked  years  ago  has  rose  in  them  few 
years  to  pomp  and  power.  It  don't  seem  reasonable;  nor 
yet  right.  Shucks !  It  couldn't  be !  I  wasn't  denying  to 
myself  that  in  them  old  days,  when  he  wasn't  up  to  some 
deviltry,  Bobby  was  hustling  like  the  devil.  He  didn't 


104  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

dilly-dally  about  nothing,  and  them  bowlegs  of  his  —  which 
they  was  uncommonly  bowed  —  covered  a  heap  of  ground 
from  daylight  to  dark,  even  when  they  wasn't  wrapped 
round  a  horse.  And  I  wouldn't  say  that  he  wasn't  smart  or 
that  he  lacked  good  judgment,  outside  of  being  fond  of  fool- 
ishness —  but  that  he  was  filling  Jim  Hopkinson's  job,  and 
him  not  much  more  than  half  as  old  as  Jim,  was  plumb 
ridiculous.  Seemed  like  he  was,  though.  Sobered  down 
and  learned  some  sense  of  course  —  just  like  I  had  done 
myself,  come  to  think  of  it. 

And  then  I  remembered  that  it  hadn't  been  more  than  an 
hour  or  two  before  that  he'd  yanked  me  out  of  the  saddle 
and  generally  conducted  himself  in  a  plumb,  boisterous,  un- 
dignified manner,  and  I  concluded  it  must  have  been  plain 
bull-headed  luck,  which  would  terminate  mighty  sudden,  es- 
pecially if  the  president  of  the  company  or  one  of  the  direc- 
tors happened  along  unexpected  and  incognomen  and  heard 
him  laugh  or  sing  Little  Ball  of  Yarn  or  something.  He 
was  a  great  singer,  Bobby  was,  and  that  night  he  warbled 
some  of  the  simple  lays  of  the  range  so's  you  could  have 
heard  him,  down  wind,  five  or  six  miles.  No,  he  couldn't 
last. 

Then,  next  morning,  he  took  me  out  to  see  them  steers, 
and  the  way  he  conducted  the  negotiations  made  me  change 
my  mind  again.  I  can  most  generally  pick  my  choice  soV* 
the  person  selling  ain't  aware  of  it  and  feels  sort  of  sorry 
for  me;  but  not  so  with  Bobby.  I  got  what  I  wanted,  but 
somehow  —  I  ain't  clear  how  it  come  —  when  I  studied 
over  it  I  seen  that  the  Z  Bell  hadn't  got  none  the  worst  of 
the  deal  by  no  means ;  and  by  the  time  I'd  got  back  to  Blue- 
blanket  I  had  to  struggle  to  keep  from  brooding  over  the 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  105 

incident.  However,  I'd  got  what  I  wanted,  and  reflecting 
on  how  I'd  come  out  with  Old  Man  Fletcher  I  hadn't  done 
so  bad  on  the  whole. 

"  Where's  Clyde  to-night  ? "  I  asked  Myra,  not  seeing 
no  signs  of  him  as  I  was  finishing  my  supper. 

"  I  reckon  he's  took  my  hint  and  found  himself  another 
place  to  eat,"  she  says.  "  I  reckon  he's  mad  at  me.  Not 
that  I  care.  He  can  get  mad  or  get  glad  for  all  of  me.  I 
won't  lose  no  sleep  if  he  is  mad,  and  you  can  tell  him  I  said 
so  if  you  like.  Not  that  he'd  care.  I'm  glad  I  told  him 
what  I  did,  come  to  that." 

"  I  don't  never  take  water  on  my  prunes,  Myra,  my 
dear,"  I  says. 

"  Oh,  excuse  me ! "  she  says.  "  I  thought  it  was  the 
cream.  I  mean  I  thought  your  prunes  was  your  coffee. 
I  mean  —  I  —  I  guess  I'm  about  crazy.  With  a  toothache." 

"  Wisdom  tooth,  I  s'pose,"  I  says.  "  They're  right  pain- 
ful to  cut;  but  you'll  feel  a  heap  better  when  it's  through, 
and  it  won't  seem  so  bad  when  you  look  back  on  it." 

I  sa'ntered  out  and  walked  down  the  street  to  the  ex- 
press office.  The  door  was  shut  but  it  opened  when  I  tried 
it,  and  Clyde  got  up  out  of  his  chair  where  he'd  been 
a-setting  with  his  head  in  his  hands.  I  noticed  that  his 
hair  was  all  rumpled  and  untidy  and  his  face  didn't  look 
as  if  he'd  shaved  it  a  few  minutes  ago,  like  it  usually  did. 
He  didn't  smile  either. 

"  What's  the  matter,  son  ?  "  I  asked  him.     "  Toothache  ?  " 

"  Toothache  hell ! "  says  Clyde,  and  you  might  have 
pushed  me  over  by  pointing  a  finger  at  me. 

"Tut,  tut!"  I  says.  "Tut,  tut,  tut!  Oh,  naughty, 
naughty  Clyde." 


106  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  I  lost  my  temper,"  says  he.  "  You'll  have  to  excuse 
me,  Mr.  Stegg.  But  the  sight  of  you  right  now  —  well,  I 
might  as  well  out  with  it,"  he  says.  "  Sit  down.  Mr. 
Stegg,  my  hopes  has  been  dashed  in  the  mud.  I've  done  lost 
my  trust  in  womanhood  and  human  nature  and  appearances 
and  every  dad-blamed  thing.  You  can't  tell  me  that  white 
ain't  black  when  you  get  right  down  clost  and  look  at  it 
careful.  No,  sir-ree !  The  acid  in  my  disposition  this  mo- 
ment is  such  that  you  show  me  a  eighteen-carat  warranted 
gold  ring  and  I'll  turn  it  green  by  breathing  on  it.  One 
thing  I'm  thankful  for  is  that  I  had  sense  enough  to  back 
out  before  it  was  too  everlasting  late!  When  I  think  of 
what  might  have  happened  in  about  another  minute  I  re- 
elize  that  there  is  a  Guiding  Hand." 

"  Clyde,"  says  I,  "  this  suspense  is  killing  of  me." 

"It  was  like  this,"  he  says.  "  I  got  to  thinking  of  what 
you  said  the  other  night  and  I  got  an  idea  that  you  thought 
I  was  maybe  putting  off  longer  than  was  necessary  and  I 
come  mighty  nigh  committing  myself  then,  but  I  reckon 
something  must  have  whispered  to  me  to  wait.  Anyway, 
I  did  wait  until  I  went  up  to  the  house  last  night;  and  al- 
most the  first  thing  she  told  me  that  the  old  folks  and  her 
little  brother  Jimmy  had  gone  to  the  stereopticon  at  the' 
Presbyterian  Church.  Somehow,  when  she  said  that  I  felt 
that  the  time  had  come  —  maybe.  She  certainly  looked  like 
a  poet's  dream  of  fair  young  maidenhood.  It  come  to  me 
as  she  was  a-setting  on  the  sofa  that  that  was  what  she 
was  —  a  poet's  dream  of  fair  young  maidenhood." 

"  Sure !  "  I  says.     "  You  told  me  she  was,  I  remember." 

He  sighed. 

"  Well,  right  there  I  decided ;  and  when  I  decide  it  don't 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  107 

take  me  long  to  act.  I  believe  she  knew  I  was  a-going  to. 
I  allowed  she  was  a  considerable  nervous  and  embarrassed 
and  at  the  same  time  she  didn't  hate  the  idea  of  it.  I 
don't  know  whether  you  know  what  I  mean  ?  " 

I  told  him  that  I'd  got  a  sort  of  an  inkling. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  want  to  be  too  brash  about  it,  so  I  kind 
of  led  up  to  the  subject  by  mentioning  Henry  Voss,  who 
was  going  up  to  Rochford  to  get  married  to  Susanna  Smith- 
son,  who  was  down  here  visiting  last  fall.  Margarita  was 
real  interested  and  allowed  that  she'd  like  to  be  at  the  wed- 
ding. She  thought  weddings  was  lovely.  I  says,  '  Yes,  but 
they  don't  always  turn  out  well.' 

" '  Not  all  of  them  of  course,'  she  says ;  '  but  don't  you 
think  most  of  them  do  ?  I  know  in  our  own  family  my  own 
sister  has  been  married  three  years  and  she  told  me  she 
didn't  know  what  real  happiness  was  before  she  married 
Clarence.' 

"  '  I  wonder  how  Clarence  feels  about  it,'  I  says.  I'd 
seen  Clarence,  and  he  didn't  seem  to  me  no  wellspring  of 
bubbling  joyousness.  It  got  me  to  thinking. 

"  '  Of  course  he's  happy,'  says  Margarita.  '  If  he  wasn't 
Evangeline  couldn't  be.  In  married  life  the  happiness  of 
one  means  the  happiness  of  both  —  don't  you  think?' 

" '  And  the  scrappiness  of  one  means  the  scrappiness  of 
both,'  I  says ;  and  she  says :  *  Yes,  but  with  love  and  for- 
bearance there  wasn't  no  need  of  scrapping.  You  put  that 
real  well,'  she  says.  '  What  made  you  think  of  it?' 

"  I  said  that  it  just  sort  of  come  to  me,  and  I  moved  my 
chair  up  a  little  closer  to  the  sofa  —  so's  I  could  hear  better 
what  she  said. 

"  '  It  shows  so  much  thought,'  she  says. 


108  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  Well,  right  there  I  thought  I'd  act.  *  I've  been  a-think- 
ing  quite  a. heap,'  I  says,  and  I  leaned  forward;  but  right 
then  here  come  her  little  brother  Jimmy  into  the  room. 

"  '  Why,  Jimmy,  dear ! '  says  Margarita,  '  why  ain't  you 
at  the  lecture?' 

"  '  It  wasn't  no  good,'  says  Jimmy.  '  A  passle  of  pictures 
like  what  we  get  at  Sunday-school,  and  the  same  talk.  I 
ducked  out.' 

" '  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  have  done  that,  darling,' 
says  Margarita.  '  I  think  you'd  better  go  back  again.  Pa 
and  Ma ' 

"  '  Not  on  your  life ! '  says  Jimmy.  '  I  think  I  see  myself 
going  back ! ' 

*' '  I'm  afraid  you  will  be  punished,  sweetheart,'  says  Mar- 
garita. '  Well,  if  you  won't  go  back  you  can  go  round  to 
Mr.  Peters'  and  play  with  Wilson  for  a  while  —  unless 
you'd  sooner  go  to  bed.' 

"  '  I'll  stay  here,'  says  Jimmy. 

"  '  Darling,'  says  Margarita,  '  you  know  you  ain't  allowed 
to  come  in  here  when  there's  company  —  unless  you  have 
your  face  and  neck  washed  and  your  hair  combed,  anyway. 
Do  you  want  sister  to  wash  your  face?  Well,  run  along 
and  play  with  Wilson,  then.' 

"'Why  can't  I  stay  here?' 

"  Margarita  got  up.  *  I  guess  I'd  better  put  you  to  bed/ 
she  says;  and  at  that  Jimmy  scooted,  and  she  shut  the 
door. 

" '  He  knows  he  can  always  take  advantage  of  me,'  she 
says,  laughing,  as  she  come  back  and  sat  down  again. 

"  '  Maybe  he's  got  it  figured  out  that  I  ain't  company,'  I 
says,  sort  of  meaning,  and  she  laughed  again  a  little. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  109 

" '  Are  you  sure  you're  quite  comfortable  in  -that  chair? ' 
she  asks. 

"  Before  I  thought,  I  said  that  I  sure  was,  and  then  I 
felt  like  kicking  myself ;  and  then  for  a  minute  or  two  we 
didn't  either  of  us  say  nothing,  and  then  she  says :  '  You 
was  saying 

"  '  Before  Jimmy  came  in/  she  goes  on.  *  You  said  you 
thought  —  and  then  you  stopped.' 

"  '  Why,  yes,'  I  says,  remembering.  Then  I  studied  just 
how  it  was  I'd  been  going  to  put  it. 

" '  It's  just  a  girl's  curiosity,  I  s'pose,'  she  says ;  and  her 
eye  winkers  sort  of  fluttered. 

"  I  made  out  to  swallow  the  lump  that  was  blocking  up 
my  gangway  of  speech  when  I  heard  somebody  breathing 
hard  outside  the  door.  I  jerked  my  thumb,  aVid  Margarita 
got  up.  Simultaneous,  we  heard  Jimmy's  bootsoles  hit  the 
floor  to  the  back  of  the  house,  and  the  outside  door  banged. 
Margarita  come  back,  still  smiling. 

"  '  He  ain't  often  as  naughty  as  this/  she  says.  '  I  guess 
he  thought  we  was  talking  secrets.  Is  it  a  secret  —  what 
you  thought?' 

" '  Maybe  it  isn't/  I  says.  '  Maybe  you  know  it  al- 
ready/ 

"  '  I'm  sure  I  don't/  she  says.     '  Tell  me.' 

"  '  And  maybe  you  wouldn't  want  to  hear  it/  I  says. 

" '  Tell  me  what  it  is  and  I'll  tell  you/  she  says. 

"  *  That's  a  pretty  ring  you're  wearing/  I  says ;  and  she 
held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  hitched  a  little  closer  and  took  a-holt  of  her  fingers, 

so  I  could  look  at  the  ring  better,  and You  know  them 

electric  batteries  where  you  take  a-holt  of  the  handles  and 


110  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

they  turn  a  crank?  Well,  it  was  something  like  that,  and 
mighty  soft  and  warm. 

"  '  It's  a  m-moonstone,'  she  says  in  a  low,  trembly  voice. 

"  I  was  just  sliding  over  onto  the  sofa  when  the  boards 
creaked  in  the  passage  outside,  and  I  dropped  her  hand  and 
settled  back  in  my  chair.  Margarita  didn't  lose  no  time 
getting  to  the  door,  and  she  shut  it  behind  her;  and  then  I 
heard  the  kitchen  door  slam  and  something  else  go  smack, 
smack,  and  the  darnedest  yell  you  ever  did  hear,  cut  short 
like  murder  had  been  done  with  a  sandbag.  I  tipped-toed 
up  to  the  door  and  held  it  ajar  and  listened.  Gurgle,  gur- 
gle, bump,  bump,  yow!  and  then  the  cut-off;  scuffle,  smack, 
smack  and  cut-off. 

"And  then  a  muffled  voice,  real  vicious,  that  I  didn't 
hardly  reco'nize  and  only  caught  a  word  or  two  of  here  and 
there :  '  I  hope  I  have,  you  ...  be  skinned  alive  ...  do 
it,  too  .  .  .  march  right  straight  upstairs  ...  a  sound  out 
of  you.  Hear  me?'  Then  a  clumping  up  the  back  stairs 
and  a  sniveling  that  was  subdued  real  surprising.  I  shut 
the  door  again  and  got  back  to  nfy  chair,  and  the  next  min- 
ute Margarita  come  in,  rather  red  in  the  face,  but  as  sweet 
and  smiling  as  ever  I  seen  her. 

"  '  Poor  Jimmy ! '  she  says.  '  He's  sleepy  and  tired  and 
doesn't  know  it.  I  coaxed  him  to  go  to  bed,  and  that  will 
be  the  last  of  him  until  morning.' 

"  I  looked  her  straight  in  the  eye.  '  You  coaxed  him,  did 
you  ? '  I  says.  '  Miss  Biglow,'  I  says,  '  will  you  allow 
me  to  ask  you  another  question,  while  I'm  asking,  if  you'd 
just  as  soon.  Did  you  make  them  muffins  that  we  had  for 
supper  last  Sunday,  and  did  you  cook  the  chicken  and  fix 
the  gravy  without  no  assistance,  like  your  mother  said  —  or 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  111 

didn't  you  ? '  I  just  naturally  bored  into  her  soul  with  a 
gimlet  eye  when  I  put  that  to  her,  but  she  didn't  show  no 
signs  of  shame,  except  she'd  quit  smiling.  She  looked  at 
me  as  straight  as-  I  looked  at  her,  for  about  twenty  sec- 
onds. 

" '  You  seem  to  be  real  interested  in  muffins  and  chicken 
and  gravy,  Mr.  Britten/  she  says. 

"  '  I'm  interested  in  the  truth,'  I  told  her.  '  Duplicious- 
ness  is  a  thing  I  despise,'  I  says. 

" '  Well,'  says  she,  as  cool  as  you  please,  *  cooking  ain't 
my  long  suit.  I've  got  as  far  as  boiling  water  so's  you 
wouldn't  hardly  notice  the  scorch  taste  —  when  I've  good 
luck  —  but  I  ain't  real  confident  about  that  even.  Ma  lets 
on  to  brag  on  me  just  to  give  me  encouragement;  she  don't 
mean  to  be  duplicent. 

" '  You're  looking  at  them  pansies,'  she  continues  after  a 
minute.  '  My  cousin  Ella  done  the  pansies  and  I  gilted  the 
fry-pan  and  tied  the  ribbon  on  it.' 

" '  How  did  you  get  your  certificate  to  teach  school  ? '  I 
asked  her,  trying  to  speak  as  ca'm  as  she  done. 

" '  The  superintendent  was  a  friend  of  mine  —  Bill 
Waters/  she  answers.  '  He  liked  me  real  well.  I  reckon 
he'd  have  given  me  his  whiskers  if  I'd  wanted  them.  Any- 
thing else  you'd  like  to  know?' 

" '  That's  a  right  pretty  dress  you've  got  on/  I  says,  a 
little  sarcastical.  '  You  made  that  yourself,  didn't  you  ?  ' 

" '  All  but  the  cutting  and  fitting  and  sewing/  she  replies. 
*  I  pulled  out  every  basting  thread  there  was  in  it  with  my 
own  hands/ 

" '  I  wonder  how  come  you  ever  learned  to  play  the 
organ  ?  '  I  says. 


112  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

' '  I  didn't  have  to  learn ;  it  come  natural/  she  answers. 
'I  liked  to  do  it,  and  I'll  do  most  anything  I  enjoy  doing. 
If  I  enjoyed  entertaining  you  any  longer  this  evening 
I'd  do  that.  I  guess  you  put  your  hat  under  that  other 
chair.' 

"  So  that  was  all  there  was  to  it,"  says  Clyde.  "  I  didn't 
linger  no  longer.  I  concluded  I'd  been  deceived  in  that  girl 
and  I'd  had  a  mighty  lucky  escape." 

"And  that's  what  makes  you  so  happy?"  I  says. 

"  That's  what  makes  me  so  happy,"  says  he.  "  But  1 
ain't  denying  that  I  feel  a  heap  disappointed." 

*'  And  that's  what  makes  you  so  plumb  miserable  ?  "  I 
says. 

"  It's  sure  unsettling,"  says  he.  "  But  I'd  have  been 
taking  big  chances  if  I  had  overlooked  conduct  like  that 
there  of  hers  —  wouldn't  I?"  He  looked  at  me  like  a  dog 
waiting  for  a  bone  you  was  finishing. 

"  You  certainly  would,"  I  told  him.  "  It's  a  cinch  that 
after  a  certain  point  she  ain't  got  the  disposition  of  a  No. 
I  first-class  angel,  and  that  she  ain't  above  trying  to  make 
a  good  impression  on  a  person  that  she  wants  to  impress 
good.  Every  once  in  a  while  you  run  acrost  a  woman  like 
that  —  and  now  and  then  a  man.  Them  angels  is  sort  of 
stay-at-home  folks,  seems  like  to  me." 

"  And  not  being  able  to  cook  nor  nothing ! "  says  Clyde. 
"  I  can  cook,  but  I'll  be  dog-gone  if  I  want  to  do  it  for  a 
family.  I  wouldn't  be  happy  a-doing  it,  and  in  married  life 
the  unhappiness  of  one  means  the  unhappiness  of  both." 

"  You  put  that  so  well,  Clyde,"  I  says,  and  I  went  away 
and  left  him  holding  his  head  and  staring  at  the  knob  of  the 
safe  with  a  glaze  in  his  eyes. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  113 

Bobby  had  promised  to  send  in  one  of  the  boys  with  them 
steers  of  mine  the  next  morning,  being  as  I  couldn't  take 
them  myself  with  the  old  plug  I'd  got  from  the  livery;  so 
next  morning  I  didn't  have  nothing  to  do  but  sit  in  the 
shade  in  front  of  Albien's  store  and  watch  out  for  'em. 
After  a  while  I  seen  their  dust  a-coming  over  the  rise,  and 
just  as  they  got  into  Main  Street  a  sweet  voice  at  my  elbow 
says,  "  Won't  you  please  let  me  pass  ?  "  and  I  started  back 
that  violent  and  sudden  that  I  nearly  went  over  backward. 
I  was  blocking  up  the  way  for  Margarita  Biglow.  Of 
course  I  apologized  like  the  polished  gentleman  what  I  am, 
and  the  smile  I  got  was  something  to  make  a  man  feel  for 
the  next  twenty-four  hours  that  he  amounted  to  some  con- 
siderable and  that  life  was  plenty  worth  while  living.  She 
went  into  the  store  and  I  went  into  a  trance,  from  which 
I  was  presently  roused  by  opprobrious  and  disrespectful 
epithets  requesting  me  to  take  my  such-and-soed  steers  and 
be  dog-gone  to  me. 

"  Drive  them  round  to  Peckinpaugh's  corral,  my  good 
young  man,"  I  says ;  "  and  when  you've  done  that  come 
back  and  I'll  see  what  can  be  done  about  altering  that  face 
of  yours." 

"Yes,  sir,"  says  Bobby.  "Peckinpaugh's  corral?  Yes, 
sir.  Thank  you,  sir.  I'll  attend  to  it  right  away,  sir,  hav- 
ing nothing  else  to  do,  and  esteeming  it  an  honor  and  a 
privilege  to  be  permitted.  Like  thunder  I  will !  Come  out 
from  behind  them  brindle  whiskers  and  show  signs  of  life, 
you  deleterious  old  gorilla." 

Just  then  the  steers  discovered  a  wagon  with  the  box  half 
full  of  hay,  that  some  careless  person  had  left,  and  they 
proceeded  to  take  a  light  lunch,  J  thought  it  was  a  pity  to 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

disturb  them  being  as  Peckinpaugh  wasn't  none  too  liberal 
with  his  feed,  so  I  invited  Bobby  to  light  and  look  at  his 
saddle. 

"  I'd  like  to,"  says  he,  "  but  I've  got  to  go  get  a  package 
from  the  express  office  and  then  skip  lightsomely  back  to 
the  ranch.  I'm  busier  than  a  buck  ant  right  now,  but  I  had 
to  come  in  myself  for  that  package  and  I  thought  I  might  as 
well  bring  your " 

He  stopped  short  and  I  could  see  his  chest  heave  up  as 
he  drew  in  his  breath.  Margarita  Biglow  had  come  out  of 
the  store,  her  arms  loaded  with  packages,  and  I'll  mention 
that  she  didn't  forget  to  give  me  another  smile  as  she 
passed.  That  time  it  made  me  feel  like  I  would  some 
morning  in  February,  when  I  poked  my  head  out  of  the 
cabin  door  to  see  what  made  the  eaves  drip  and  got  the 
first  puff  of  the  Chinook  against  my  cheek.  I  don't  know 
what  it  reminded  Bobby  of,  but  from  the  way  he  wheeled  his 
horse  and  looked  after  her  as  she  tripped  along  it's  a  cinch 
that  he  was  powerful  affected. 

"  What  was  you  remarking,  Bobby  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

I  reckon  he  didn't  hear  me.  If  lightning  had  struck  the 
store,  and  a  cyclone  and  an  earthquake  and  a  waterspout  or 
two  had  followed,  with  Hades  let  out  for  recess  close  be- 
hind, I  doubt  if  he  would  have  noticed  it.  What  he  did 
notice  was  that  Margarita  had  dropped  a  couple  of  her 
packages.  One  of  them  was  a  can  of  something,  and  it 
rolled  clear  to  the  middle  of  the  street  and  might  have  rolled 
farther  if  Bobby  hadn't  stopped  it.  I  may  be  mistaken  by 
a  few  inches  and  a  second  or  two,  but  I  judge  that  can  was  a 
hundred  yards  from  us  when  it  struck  the  ground  and 
Bobby  threw  his  leg  over  from  the  horn  of  the  saddle  where 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  115 

he  was  resting  it  and  put  the  spur  to  his  horse.  The  hun- 
dred yards  was  covered  in  about  the  time  it  takes  a  mule 
to  flick  his  left  ear,  and  it  took  something  less  than  that  for 
Bobby  to  swing  over  and  grab  the  can  on  the  keen  run. 
It  was  sure  prompt  action.  A  second  later  my  young  im- 
pulsive friend  was  standing  before  Margarita  with  his  hat 
off  and  the  can  under  his  arm. 

"  I'll  take  the  rest  of  them  things  and  pack  them  for  you, 
ma'am,  if  you'd  just  as  soon  let  me,"  he  says.  "  I'm  going 
the  same  way  as  what  you  are." 

"  Well,  I'm  sure !  "  says  Margarita,  staring  at  him. 

"  No  reason  why  you  shouldn't  be,"  says  Bobby ;  and  he 
had  a  smile  of  his  own  that  made  folks  forget  how  plumb 
homely  he  was.  "  I'm  honest  as  the  day  is  long,"  he  says. 
"  I'm  as  able  as  Adam's  second  son  and  as  willing  as  Wil- 
liam." 

"  Was  William  willing  ?  "  asks  Margarita,  trying  to  keep 
from  smiling. 

"  He  was  right  hungry  and  they  rung  the  dinner  bell  for 
him,"  says  Bobby,  taking  the  other  package  from  her,  that 
she'd  just  picked  up,  and  tucking  it  under  his  arm  with  the 
can  and  holding  out  his  hand  for  more. 

"  My  name  isn't  even  Williamette,"  says  the  young 
woman,  mighty  sober.  "  Will  you  kindly  please  to  give  me 
them  things  of  mine,  if  you'll  be  so  good."  She  held  out 
her  hand,  and  Bobby  took  and  shook  it,  gentle  and  respect- 
ful, until  she  jerked  it  away,  dropping  a  bunch  of  celery 
with  the  jerk,  which  Bobby  picked  up. 

"  Now  give  me  them  eggs  and  I'll  compromise  and  let 
you  carry  the  bottle,"  he  says.  "  That  will  show  you  I 
ain't  got  no  designs  on  whatever  there  is  in  it." 


116  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  It's  vinegar,"  says  Margarita.  "  Well,  take  them,  then. 

But  I  must  say How  do  you  know  you're  going  the 

same  way  as  me  ?  " 

"  You  just  make  a  start  once,  and  see  how  quick  I'll 
prove  it,"  says  Bobby. 

I  seen  all  this  from  the  porch.  I  seen  them  talking  and 
could  almost  hear  what  they  said.  I  seen  Bobby,  a  perfect 
stranger,  smiling  at  this  dream  of  fair  young  maidenhood 
and  taking  away  her  property  from  her  piece  by  piece,  and 
finally  I  heard  them  both  laugh  and  watched  them  walk 
away  together.  Bobby's  horse  stood  in  the  street  right 
where  he  was  left,  and  he  looked  after  them  sort  of  curious 
and  after  a  while  shook  his  head  as  if  he  disapproved  a 
heap  of  such  goings-on  and  sidled  up  to  join  the  lunch 
party  at  the  wagon.  I  waited,  it  must  have  been  an  hour, 
until  the  hay  was  all  gone,  and  then  I  got  on  Bobby's  horse 
and  drove  the  steers  to  Peckinpaugh's  and  left  the  outfit 
there  and  went  back  to  the  store.  Pretty  soon  along  come 
Bobby,  on  foot  and  in  a  hurry. 

*'  Where's  your  horse,  son  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

He  looked  a  considerable  took  aback.  "  Why,  that's 
so!"  says  he.  "I  did  have  a  horse,  didn't  I?  Well,  let 
it  go.  What  I  need  now  is  two  horses  and  the  best  light  rig 
there  is  in  town.  I  reckon  I'll  see  to  that  right  away. 
Stable's  down  the  street,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Come  back  here !  "  I  says.  "  Before  you  get  out  any 
light  rigs  I've  got  to  know  the  whys  and  wherefores.  Am 
I  correct  in  assuming  that  you  are  going  to  take  some  young 
lady  out  riding?  Yes?  The  said  young  lady  being  Miss 
Margarita  Biglow  ?  Yes  ?  Then  sit  down  and  listen  to  me, 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  117 

because  I've  got  something  to  tell  you  about  that  young  lady 
that  you  had  ought  to  know.  In  the  first  pace  I  understood 
you  to  say  that  you  was  busy  at  the  ranch  and  didn't  have  no 
time  to  waste  ?  " 

"  Be  easy,"  says  Bobby,  grinning.  "  I  won't  waste  no 
time." 

"  Then  what  have  you  been  doing  the  last  hour  or  two  ?  " 
I  says. 

'*  Getting  acquainted  with  my  future  wife  and  my  future 
wife's  family,"  says  Bobby.  "  And  not  so  dog-gone  f  uturi- 
ous  at  that.  I  tell  you  this  so  that  you  may  know  in  case 
it  has  any  bearings  on  what  you  were  going  to  tell  me." 
He  looked  at  me  straight  and  sober  when  he  said  that. 
"  Go  ahead,  if  you  think  it  best,  because  I've  got  to  get  that 

rig." 

"  I'm  surprised,"  I  says.  "  I'm  sure  surprised  at  a  man 
of  your  reasonable  rapid  actions  fooling  and  frittering  with 
rigs  when  you  might  just  as  well  have  thro  wed  your  future 
wife  acrost  your  saddle  right  off,  and  lit  out  for  the  nearest 
preacher's,  whether  or  no." 

"  I  don't  say  that  there  ain't  sense  in  what  you  say,"  says 
Bobby,  "  but  I  aim  to  have  Mrs.  Nevins  travel  in  comfort 
when  comfort  is  to  be  had  for  love  or  money  or  personal 
violence  up  to  and  including  bloodshed  if  necessary.  But 
if  there's  no  other  business " 

"  There  is,"  I  says.  "  I've  got  a  high  respect  and  admira- 
tion for  a  certain  person,  but  I'm  informed  that  angels  has 
better  dispositions  in  some  respects,  like  mislaying  their 
tempers  when  there's  just  cause  and  reason  for  it;  what's 
more,  she  ain't  no  cook  to  speak  of,  and  there's  grave 
doubts  about  her  being  able  to  paint  pansies  on  a  fry-pan  or 


118  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

teach  eighth-grade  school.  You  may  hear  to  the  contrary, 
but  what  I  say  is,  investigate.  In  married  life  the  dyspepsia 
of  one  means  merry  something  popping  for  two  sooner  or 
later  and  sooner  than  not.  I'm  talking  as  your  friend  — 
your  old,  tried  and  trusted  friend.  I  say  to  you,  investi- 
gate; look  afore  you  leap.  That's  all  I've  got  to  say." 

"  It's  a  plenty,"  says  Bobby,  mighty  scornful.  "  Why, 
you  old  stick-in-the-gumbo,  do  you  reckon  I  ain't  got  eyes 
in  my  head  and  ears  sticking  out  on  each  side  thereof? 
Look !  You  watch  me  break  the  best  records  for  long  leaps. 
If  I'd  been  short-sighted  I  wouldn't  never  have  started. 
Can't  cook!  Say,  haven't  I  got  a  cook  at  the  ranch?  As 
for  mislaying  temper,  she  may  get  mad  at  me,  but  I'll  bet  you 
she  won't  stay  mad  long,  and  if  she  wants  to  use  me  for  a 
doormat  I'll  have  '  Welcome '  wove  in  the  back  of  my  coat 
and  lay  me  down  on  the  doorstep  and  enjoy  myself  all 
through  the  muddy  weather.  Investigate!  I've  put  in  a 
full  hour  investigating  already;  and  dog-gone  my  wild 
heart!  I'm  going  to  put  in  sixty  or  seventy  years  more 
with  her  right  under  my  eye  if  I  can  fool  her  like  I  expect 
to  do.  I  realize  I'm  going  to  play  her  a  low-down,  mean 
trick,  marrying  her,  but  I  ain't  got  no  more  scruples  or 
decency  than  a  sheep  herder  when  it  comes  to  that.  I'm 
just  that  ornery.  So  long !  " 

His  spurs  clink-clanked  double-quick  time  along  the  side- 
walk as  far  as  the  livery,  and  there  he  disappeared.  I  got 
up  and  sa'ntered  that  way  and  looked  in.  Joe  Tregear  and 
Clippy  Dargan  had  their  best  buggy  trundled  out  and  were 
going  at  it  with  sponge  and  chamois  whilst  Bobby  and  an- 
other helper  of  Joe's  were  watering  a  pair  of  matched  sor- 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  119 

rels.  When  they  was  through  drinking,  Bobby  turned  over 
the  one  he  was  holding  to  the  boy.  "You  see  that  they 
shine !  "  he  says.  "  You've  got  half  an  hour  to  get  'em 
slicked  up.  I'll  be  back  maybe  4n  twenty  minutes." 

"  Coming  with  me  to  eat,  Bobby  ?  "  I  says,  stepping  up 
alongside  him  as  he  come  out. 

"  What  in  blazes  would  I  want  to  eat  for  ? "  he  says. 
"  Don't  talk  foolishness  to  me  when  I'm  pressed  for  time. 
Whichaway  is  the  barber  shop?  Never  mind.  I  see  the 
pole." 

I  couldn't  keep  up  with  him,  but  I  tagged  along  and  got 
there  as  Hank  Evans  was  tucking  a  towel  into  his  neck. 
"  A  dollar  a  minute  for  ten  minutes  is  good  pay,"  says 
Hank,  dabbing  on  the  lather  with  one  hand  and  rubbing  it 
in  with  the  other.  "  I'll  earn  it,"  he  says,  making  a  light- 
ning play  on  the  strop.  "  If  I  cut  you  I'll  cut  so  you  can't 
cut  back,"  he  says,  beginning  to  scrape.  "  You  might  be 
a-shaking  up  that  bay  rum  for  me  while  you're  waiting,  Mr. 
Stegg,"  he  says,  moving  over  to  the  other  cheek.  "  I  can 
talk  and  do  this  too,"  he  proceeds,  tackling  the  chin.  "  And 
now  —  there!  Four  minutes  flat,  by  ginger!  Set  up, 
Mister  Man,  and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  with  the  upland 
crop  in  the  other  six." 

Four  more  minutes  was  devoted  to  the  hair  trimming, 
and  the  other  two  was  consumed  by  hot  towels,  bay  rum, 
brushes  and  tonic.  It  was  a  jim-dandy  job,  too,  and  gave 
Hank  something  to  brag  about  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  I 
thought  that  Bobby  would  naturally  have  a  little  time  to 
take  nourishment  before  the  team  was  ready  for  him,  but 
he  seemed  real  peevish  when  I  mentioned  it  again, 


120  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  You  don't  think  of  nothing  but  putting  feed  into  your- 
self," he  says.  "  Some  of  these  days  you'll  get  foundered 
and  then  you'll  be  sole  mourner." 

"  Going  to  the  express  office  for  that  important  package  ?  " 
I  asked  him  as  I  trotted  along. 

He  didn't  deign  no  reply,  but  commenced  to  unbutton  his 
shirt  and  turned  into  Sol  Bloom's  gents'  furnishing  and 
clothing,  where  he  took  said  garment  off  before  Sol  could 
get  from  the  back  of  the  store  to  greet  him.  Right  there  the 
swift  sale  and  lightning  change  records  was  smashed,  and 
inside  of  ten  minutes  more  Bobby  walked  out,  a  new  being, 
leaving  his  old  clothes,  the  best  part  of  a  hundred  dollars 
and  a  strong  smell  of  bay  rum  behind  him. 

"  I'll  go  with  you  to  the  livery  and  identify  you,  Bobby," 
I  says. 

He  stopped  in  his  tracks.  "  You  can  go  to  dinner,"  he 
says,  "or  you  can  go  to  Jerusalem  or  Gehenna,  but  you 
can't  go  no  farther  with  me  to-day.  There  ain't  no  better 
company  than  what  you  are,"  he  says,  "exceptin'  on  oc- 
casions when  there's  other  company  that  a  person  would 
prefer  to  have  without  you.  I'd  like  to  ask  you  to  go  along 
with  us,  but  we  would  be  cramped  for  room  for  one  thing, 
and  it  would  be  highly  disagreeable  to  me  for  another  —  if 
you  get  my  meaning." 

I  told  him  that  he  was  depriving  the  young  lady  of  pleas- 
ant society,  but  she  might  be  fond  enough  of  fresh  air  and 
scenery  to  enjoy  the  ride  in  a  way,  and  I  went  to  dinner. 

Ma  Frush  waited  on  me.  I  asked  her  where  Myra  was 
and  she  allowed,  kind  of  short,  that  Myra  was  some  place 
or  another,  and  altogether  wasn't  as  chatty  as  usual.  Pretty 
soon  Clyde  come  in,  looking  as  if  he'd  been  wrung  out  and 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  121 

drawed  through  a  knot  hole.  He  just  nodded  to  me  as  he 
sat  down  and  he  didn't  no  more  than  toy  with  his  vittles, 
which  this  time  was  about  as  good  as  what  I  got. 

"Still  happy,  Clyde?"  I  asked  him.  "Too  happy  to 
eat?" 

"  Mr.  Stegg,"  he  says,  "  there's  subjects  that  it  ain't 
proper  to  jest  about;  but  if  you  ain't  jesting  and  want  to 
know,  I  ain't  happy  but  contrariwise.  I'm  beginning  to 
think  that  I  was  sort  of  hasty  the  other  night  in  the  matter 
that  I  was  telling  you  about.  Sort  of  precipitate." 

"  That  was  ever  your  great  fault,  son,"  I  says. 

"  I  had  ought  to  have  took  into  account  that  that  there 
near  relative  of  the  party  in  question  needs  licking  early 
and  often,  on  general  principles,"  he  says.  "  He  was  into 
the  office  a  while  ago  and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  my 
hands  off'n  him." 

"Meaning  little  J.?"  I  asked. 

"  Meaning  little  J.,"  he  says.  "  A  freckled  young  limb 
of  the  devil,  if  you  ask  me.  If  a  certain  party  had  took  the 
hide  right  off'n  him  on  the  occasion  alluded  to  I  wouldn't 
be  disposed  to  blame  her,  come  to  think  it  over.  My  present 
opinion  is  that  she  was  real  sweet  and  patient.  Another 
thing  I'd  ought  to  have  considered  was  that  she  was  in  a 
anxious  frame  of  mind,  not  knowing  for  sure  but  what  I 
was  a  trifler —  which  I  ain't.  So  I  hadn't  ought  to  have 
started  in  asking  them  harsh  personal  questions.  I've  a 
notion  to  go  up  to  the  house  and  apologize  and  set  her  mind 
at  rest  as  to  my  intentions.  I'd  go  up  right  now  only " 

"Yes?"  I  says. 

"  That  hell's  baby  —  er  —  J.  was  telling  me  about  some 
low  cow-puncher  or  another  carrying  Mar  —  a  certain  per- 


122  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

son's  groceries  home  for  her  and  staying  there  the  best  part 
of  the  morning  exchanging  coarse  pleasantries  with  the  old 
lady  and  indulging  in  familiarities  with  a  certain  person  in  a 
fresh  and  unwarranted  manner,  and  promising  J.  a  pony 
from  the  ranch  —  all  lies  probably.  But  he  said  a  certain 
person  was  going  buggy  riding  with  this  uncouth  calf  rustler 
after  dinner.  Say,  I'd  rejoice  to  be  a  member  of  the  B. 
family,  just  to  get  the  privilege  of  spanking  J.  I'd  think 
he  was  lying  about  the  buggy  riding,  but  I  certainly  did 
notice  a  buggy  going  up  toward  the  house  just  before  I 
come  in  here.  It  went  by  so  quick  I  couldn't  see  who  was 
in  it,  but  I  don't  think  it  was  the  bow-legged,  frog- faced, 
dusty  young  devil  in  chaps  that  J.  pointed  out  to  me  about 
half  an  hour  before.  The  hat  wasn't  the  same.  Anyway, 
I  think  I'll  wait  until  after  supper  now." 

"  You  seem  to  have  forgotten  something,  Clyde,"  I  says. 
"  Granting  and  admitting  that  a  certain  person  had  a  good 
excuse  for  chastising  her  near  relative,  J.,  that  don't  make 
her  no  good  cook  and  dressmaker  and  milliner  and  instruc- 
tor of  youth  in  the  eighth  grade  and  fry-pan  decorator  dee 
lucks.  Ain't  you  overlooking  them  points,  son  ?  " 

"  No,"  says  Clyde,  "  I  ain't.  But  what  do  them  points 
amount  to?  See  here."  He  waved  his  hand  at  his  dinner. 
"  There's  good  grub,  but  I  ain't  got  no  stomach  for  it,"  he 
says.  "  If  it  was  humming  birds  on  toast  and  broiled  gold- 
fish and  hothouse-grape  pie  a  la  mode  it  would  be  just  the 
same  without  —  a  certain  person ;  and  with  her  I  feel  I 
could  relish  rawhide  and  ragweed  roots.  You  could  show 
me  the  most  elegant  chromo  in  a  diamond-studded  frame 
and  it  wouldn't  give  me  the  satisfaction  I'd  feel  if  there 
wasn't  no  dissensions  between  us  —  not  if  she'd  painted  it 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  123 

and  give  it  nine  coats  of  varnish.  If  she  couldn't  no  more 
than  make  her  mark  I  wouldn't  care  particular.  I  could 
learn  her  all  she'd  need  to  know.  In  married  life  the  educa- 
tion of  one  —  well,  you  know  what  I  mean  anyway.  I'm 
a-going  up  to  the  house  after  supper  and  I  don't  care  if  the 
whole  family  stays  round.  I'm  a-going  to  take  the  leap. 
And  I'll  sure  make  that  officious  bundle-carrier  leap,  too,  if 
he  horns  in  again  with  buggy-riding  propositions.  My 
mind  is  sure  made  up  now ! " 

He  smiled  for  the  first  time  as  he  got  up,  and  he  walked 
out  with  a  real  gallus  gait. 

What  I  ought  to  have  done  was  yoked  up  my  bulls  and 
started  for  Rapid,  but  somehow  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to 
do  it.  This  here  life  of  ours  is  mighty  dull  and  much  about 
the  same  as  a  general  thing,  and  when  there's  any  interesting 
little  breaks  in  it  I  love  to  linger  where  it's  going  on  and 
make  bets  with  myself  on  the  breakage.  So  I  allowed  I'd 
give  Blueblanket  another  day  and  see  what  happened.  I 
was  a-getting  rusty  in  my  pool,  too,  so  I  put  in  the  after- 
noon at  Gantz's  parlors,  improving  it  and  working  up  an 
appetite  for  supper.  About  six  o'clock  I  hung  my  cue  in 
the  rack,  collected  my  cigars  and  started  for  Frush's,  feeling 
as  if  I  could  assimilate  all  and  sundry  that  was  set  before 
me.  On  the  way  I  looked  in  at  the  livery  to  see  if  Bobby 
had  got  back.  He  hadn't,  so  I  crossed  the  street  and  run 
into  Clyde  at  Frush's  door.  I  had  to  step  back  and  take  a 
second  look  at  him  before  I  could  believe  it. 

The  peachy  blooms  was  back  on  his  cheek  as  fresh  as 
ever,  and  his  little  mustache  was  turned  up  at  the  ends  as 
cute  as  a  coon's  tail;  his  eyes  was  bright  and  his  necktie  a 


124  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

baby  blue,  to  match  the  stripe  in  his  seersucker,  and  when  he 
hung  up  his  hat  his  hair  looked  as  if  it  had  been  parted 
with  a  chalk  line  and  smoothed  down  on  either  side  with  a 
flatiron.  He  was  sure  a  gay  and  pleasing  sight,  and  when 
we  sat  down  at  the  table  he  commenced  to  babble  like  a 
care-free  schoolgirl. 

"  You're  looking  better  than  what  you  did  at  noon, 
Clyde,"  I  says  after  a  while. 

"I'm  feeling  better,  Mr.  Stegg,"  he  says.  "  In  the  words 
of  the  poet: 

I  feel  about  as  happy  as  a  big  sunflower 

That  nods  and  bends  in  the  breezes, 
My  heart  is  just  as  light  as  the  winds  that  blows 
The  leaves  from  off  the  treeses. 

"  That's  the  way  I'm  feeling,"  he  says.  "  And  there's 
a-going  to  be  two  people  happy  to-night,"  he  says. 

"  Making  other  folks  happy  is  the  secret  of  true  happi- 
ness," I  says.  "  I  can  see  a  certain  person's  eyes  glisten 
with  joy  when  she  knows  she's  forgiven,"  I  says.  "  There 
ain't  no  doubt  about  it  that  forgiveness  is  divine.  But  ain't 
you  a  little  sort  of  nervous?  No?  Well,  I  reckon  you're 
right  to  be  cheerful  while  you  can." 

"  You  see  I'm  eating  my  supper  to-night,  don't  you  ?  "  he 
says,  smiling.  And  he  was. 

But  he  didn't  finish  it.  The  words  was  no  sooner  out  of 
his  mouth  and  a  wedge  of  steak  in  than  the  dining-room 
door  busted  open  and  Bobby  Nivens  explodes  into  the  room 
with  a  loud  glad  cry,  grabs  my  hand  and  the  spoon  I  was 
using  and  shook  them  until  I  thought  my  good  right  arm 
was  a-going  to  follow  what  had  been  in  the  spoon. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  125 

"  My  dear  old  faithful  friend !  "  he  says,  rumpling  my 
hair.  "  The  blithe  companion  of  my  boyhood  days  a-filling 
himself  up  as  of  yore !  How  are  you  and  how's  Buck  and 
Bright?  Not  changed  a  particle  since  I  last  saw  your  loved 
face  and  we  parted  in  sadness  and  in  tears !  " 

He  skimmed  his  new  hat  at  a  peg  the  farther  side  of  the 
room,  pulled  out  a  chair  and  sat  down  —  one  wide,  white 
grin. 

"If  this  ain't  a  sure-enough  reonion !  "  he  says,  beaming 
at  Clyde,  who  wasn't  by  no  means  beaming  at  him. 

Then  he  turns  to  Ma  Frush,  who  had  come  up,  and  tells 
her  how  the  fame  of  her  meals  had  reached  him  and  drawed 
him  from  far  and  wide,  and  that  he  hadn't  et  for  the  nine 
days  he'd  been  on  the  road,  but  he  could  wait  for  breakfast 
if  it  was  a-going  to  make  her  any  trouble,  and  a  mess  of 
foolishness  like  that  that  sent  ma  off  to  the  kitchen  giggling. 
Then  he  reached  out  and  pulled  my  ear  over  to  him  and 
whispered  in  one  of  them  whispers  that  don't  carry  more'n 
forty  rods  or  so: 

"  If  you  ain't  got  no  engagement  and  no  conscientious  ob- 
jections to  putting  on  a  clean  shirt  I'd  be  pleased  and 
honored  by  your  company  at  my  nuptials  to-night." 

"What!  "I  shouts. 

He  hauled  off  and,  making  a  noise  like  a  young  rooster 
practicing  voice-placing,  he  slapped  me  where  I  was  still 
sore  from  his  last  attack.  I  looked  acrost  the  table  at  Clyde, 
and  he  had  turned  the  color  of  his  pocket  handkerchief,  and 
his  lower  lip  had  sagged  from  his  gums. 

"  At  eight  P.  M.  sharp,  at  the  residence  of  the  bride's 
parents  and  her  little  brother  James,"  Bobby  goes  on. 
"  The  Reverend  Spotkin  officiating.  Following  the  cere- 


126  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

mony  the  happy  couple  will  hit  the  cool  evening  breeze  for 
the  Z  Bell  ranch,  their  future  home.  Please  omit  footgear. 
Kiss  me,  Steggie!  Oh,  kiss  me  and  give  me  your  bless- 
ing!" 

He  seen  me  look  at  Clyde,  who  was  a-shivering  like  he 
felt  a  draft,  but  being  somewhat  excited  and  not  noticing 
anything  out  of  the  way,  I  suppose,  he  gives  Clyde  a  right 
gracious  and  affable  smile. 

"  I  don't  know  you,  gentle  stranger,"  he  says,  "  but  I 
sure  like  you.  I  like  everybody,  me.  I've  known  the  time 
when  my  heart  didn't  warm  to  humanity  like  it's  a-glowing 
now  and  when  I  wouldn't  have  asked  you  to  grace  my  wed- 
ding without  previous  acquaintance,  but  if " 

"  I  don't  know  you,"  says  Clyde,  shivering  worse  than 
ever  and  talking  with  his  teeth  shut,  "  and  I'm  sure  I  don't 
like  you.  I  don't  like  your  looks  nor  the  way  you  talk 
nor  yet  the  color  of  your  hair  —  if  you  get  the  drift  of  my 
remarks." 

Bobby  turned  to  me  with  a  pained  look.  "  He  don't  like 
me,  Steggie,"  he  said,  real  plaintive.  "  Now  how  do  you 
account  for  that?  I  come  to  him  making  the  peace  sign 
and  he  starts  to  shooting  from  under  his  blanket  thisaway. 
What  would  you  do?  Do  you  reckon  he  knows  how  his 
unkindness  hurts  me  or  doesn't  he  give  a  durn?  Would 
you  try  to  win  his  friendship  right  now  or  do  you  reckon 
I'd  better  leave  it  to  time?  This  is  sure  a  sad  blow." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  something,"  says  Clyde,  the  color  com- 
ing back  to  his  face  with  a  rush.  "  When  you  talk  about 
sad  blowing " 

He  stopped  as  Ma  Frush  came  in,  and  waited  until  she'd 
given  Bobby  his  supper  and  gone  out  again. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  127 

"  Yes  ?  "  says  Bobby,  buttering  a  biscuit  and  smiling  at 
him  encouragingly. 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  your  mouth  is  too  big  and  your 
jaw  too  slack,"  says  Clyde,  pushing  his  chair  back  and  get- 
ting up. 

"  So  I've  been  told,"  says  Bobby,  setting  his  teeth  into 
the  biscuit  and  starting  to  cut  his  steak.  "  You're  probably 
right;  but  how  can  you  help  it,  poor  thing?" 

"  I  might,"  says  Clyde,  dodging  the  grab  I  made  at  him 
and  coming  round  the  table.  "  Get  up !  "  he  says  to  Bobby, 
but  Bobby  didn't  get  up. 

"  I  ain't  destructive,"  he  says  to  me.  "  He's  so  pretty 
I'd  hate  to  spoil  him.  You  talk  to  him  quietly  and  divert  his 
mind,  Steggie.  My  voice  seems  to  irritate  him. 

"  Dog-gone  you !  "  Clyde  shrieked. 

He  drew  back  his  fist  and  swung  it  with  all  his  force  at 
Bobby's  objectionable  jaw.  I  reckon  that  swing  would 
have  done  considerable  damage  if  it  had  landed,  but  Bobby 
happened  to  stoop  just  then.  He  rose  up  laughing  as  the 
swing  spun  Clyde  round;  and  then  when  the  misguided  lad 
came  at  him  again  wide  open  he  reached  in  and  tapped  him 
on  the  nose  just  hard  enough  to  start  the  crimson  lifeblood. 
It  was  meant  to  be  a  light  tap,  I  could  see  that,  just  a  good- 
natured  hint ;  but  Clyde  wouldn't  be  satisfied  to  take  it,  and 
made  another  rush,  getting  Bobby's  fist  just  under  the  right 
eye  and  falling  backward  over  a  chair  against  Ma  Frush 
and  Myra,  who  had  come  a-running  in. 

Bobby  was  stepping  forward  to  help  him  up,  but  I  reckon 
his  kind  intentions  was  misunderstood;  anyway,  he  didn't 
take  but  two  forward  steps ;  the  rest  was  backward,  and 
Myra  followed  him  up  close,  swinging  her  broom  left  and 


128  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

right  and  telling  him  what  she  thought  of  him  in  no  uncer- 
tain tones.  If  that  broom  had  happened  to  been  an  ax 
Bobby  would  have  been  killed  too  dead  to  skin  six  or  seven 
times  before  he  reached  the  door  and  got  out  in  the  street, 
where  Myra  was  too  much  of  a  lady  to  chase  him. 

"  You  miserable,  ugly,  bloodthirsty  brute !  "  she  said ;  and 
throwed  the  broom  at  him  and  hit  a  mule  that  was  hitched 
to  a  post  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  which  made  the 
mule  wheel  round  and  kick  Perry  Ackerman's  real-estate 
bulletin  board  through  his  office  window.  I  come  out  a 
minute  or  two  later  and  found  Bobby  paying  Perry  for  the 
window,  and  Old  Bill  Oliver,  the  marshal,  coaxing  the  mule 
off  the  sidewalk. 

"  Well,  how's  the  patient  ?  "  says  Bobby,  taking  his  hat, 
which  I  had  brung  out  to  him. 

"  He's  regained  consciousness  and  with  careful  nursing, 
which  he's  sure  getting,  he'll  probably  be  able  to  see  out  of 
both  eyes  by  to-morrow,"  I  told  him. 

"  What  do  you  reckon  made  that  Willieboy  take  that 
crazy  spell  ? "  Bobby  muses.  "  I  hope  the  young  lady  ain't 
a-going  to  suffer  owing  to  her  recent  exertions,"  he  con- 
tinues as  he  walked  along. 

"  I  ain't  so  sure  of  that,"  I  says. 

What  I  was  a-thinking  of  was  Myra  running  back  to  help 
Qyde  into  the  sitting  room  whether  he  needed  help  or  not 
and  a-stanching  the  gore  and  a-laving  his  poor  eye  with  a 
gentle  hand  as  he  lay  on  the  sofa.  It  had  reminded  me  of 
that  piece  of  poetry  about  woman  in  our  hours  of  ease,  and 
I'd  begun  to  speak  it  but  Myra  turned  on  me  real  capricious 
and  told  me  that  if  I  couldn't  act  like  I  had  sense  I'd  better 
get  out  of  here.  Otherwise  I'd  have  stayed  a  while  longer. 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  129 

I'd  took  notice  though  that  there  were  moist  gleams  of  grati- 
tude in  Clyde's  operating  eye. 

Bobby  hung  on  to  me  until  I'd  got  into  my  war  sack  and 
arrayed  myself  similar  to  a  wedding  guest,  and  then  we 
drove  the  sorrels  up  to  Biglow's,  loading  the  preacher  in  on 
the  way.  Up  to  that  time  I'd  thought  Bobby  might  be  try- 
ing to  fool  me,  even  when  he  begun  to  act  nervous  and  cling- 
ing. He  said  he'd  figured  that  Margarita  wouldn't  have 
no  time  before  eight  o'clock  to  change  more'n  her  dress, 
but  maybe  he  had  delayed  the  game  long  enough  for  her  to 
include  her  mind.  He'd  made  the  excuse  to  the  old  folks 
that  he  had  to  take  a  trip  to  Omaha  as  soon  as  he  got  back 
to  the  ranch  and  he'd  got  Henry  Albien  and  Vandervoort, 
of  the  Drovers  National,  to  testify  that  he  was  honest  and 
respectable  and  rising  and  tolerable  well  heeled  and  such 
like,  but  all  the  same  he  had  a  sort  of  sinking  sensation  that 
something  was  a-going  to  happen. 

And  something  did  happen  sure  enough.  About  twenty- 
five  minutes  after  he  had  trotted  in  at  the  door  he  walked 
out  again  with  Mrs.  Bobby  Nivens  on  his  arm,  and  if  he 
had  been  a  mile  high  by  two  miles  wide  he  couldn't  have 
give  you  more  the  idea  of  being  all  swelled  up  with  pride 
and  joyfulness;  and  taking  a  look  at  Margarita,  blushing, 
half  laughing  and  half  crying,  and  pretty  as  a  pink  rosebud, 
you'd  have  thought  she  was  reason  a-plenty  for  them  di- 
mensions, if  such  they  had  been.  He  helped  her  into  the 
rig  like  she  was  valuable  eggshell  china,  whilst  I  made  out 
to  hold  the  sorrels'  heads.  It  was  a  bright  moonlight  and 
the  road  lay  clear  and  straight  before  them. 

"  Let  her  go,  Gallagher!  "  Bobby  sings  out,  and  I  jumped 
aside  just  quick  enough  and  none  too  quick,  simultaneous 


130  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

with  a  scattering  fire  of  old  shoes  which  mostly  fell  about 
fifty  yards  short;  and  that  was  the  last  of  Bobby  for  a 
while. 

"  Well,  Reverend,"  I  says  to  the  preacher  a  few  minutes 
later,  "  I  reckon  we've  done  all  the  damage  we  can  and  we 
might  as  well  be  heading  for  home." 

"  I  reckon  we  might,  Mr.  Stegg,"  says  he. 

So  we  set  out  together,  and  he  was  so  entertaining  that  I 
walked  a  piece  out  of  my  way  with  him  to  his  door.  Just 
as  we  was  opening  the  gate  a  figure  moved  out  of  the 
shadows  toward  us,  and  when  it  struck  the  moonlight  we 
seen  it  had  a  swelled  nose  and  a  bunged-up  eye. 

"  Mr.  Spotkin,"  it  says,  "  might  I  have  a  word  or  two 
with  you  in  private  ?  " 

I  waited  until  they  got  through  and  the  Reverend  had 
gone  in  and  then  I  waited  until  Clyde  spoke. 

"  I  suppose  you're  a-wondering  what  this  means,"  he 
says. 

"  Seems  like  it  means  business,"  I  answered. 

"  You're  right,"  he  says.  "  Mr.  Stegg,  I  understand  that 
a  certain  person  is  married  and  gone  off  with  her  husband, 
and  further  that  her  husband  never  seen  her  before  this 
morning  but  made  up  his  mind  prompt  when  he  did  see  her. 
That's  right,  ain't  it  ?  " 

I  said  it  was. 

"  I  wish  that  certain  person  joy  and  happiness,"  he  says. 
"  I  feel  I  was  mistaken  in  her,  but  all  the  same  I  wish  her 
joy  and  I  don't  bear  her  husband  no  malice.  I  don't  say 
that  I  like  him  or  his  ways  or  actions,"  he  says,  fingering 
his  nose  sort  of  delicate,  "  but  I'm  free  to  say  I  think  he's 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  131 

got  the  right  idea  of  rushing  a  thing  through.  And  that's 
what  I  aim  to  do  myself.  I  decided  on  that  about  a  half  an 
hour  ago  as  I  came  out  of  Frush's,  where  Miss  Myra  had 
been  tending  me  like  a  sweet  and  lovely  angel  of  light. 
Miss  Myra  ain't  no  stranger  to  me  and  some  time  ago  I'd 
even  thought  of  asking  her  to  be  mine,  so  to  speak,  but  I 
never  anticipated  what  she  was  until  to-night.  That's  why 
I  come  up  here  to  see  the  Reverend.  I  aim  to  make  sure  he 
wouldn't  go  to  bed  before  I  could  get  Miss  Myra  up  here. 
And  if  you'd  like  to  attend  on  the  ceremony " 

"  Well,  well !  "  I  says.  "  Good  for  you,  Clyde !  So  little 
Myra's  a-going  to  take  pity  on  you !  Sure  I'll  stand  up  with 
you." 

"  Er  —  I  ain't  exactly  told  her  what  my  plans  is  yet,"  he 
says,  "  but  I'm  going  right  over  this  minute  to  do  so.  I'm 
a-going  to  rush  it  through.  She  can  just  throw  something 
over  her  head  and  the  Reverend  is  going  to  wait  up  for  us. 
I  wouldn't  wait  until  morning,  not  for  no  money.  I  know 
what  I  want  now  and  I  ain't  going  to  dally." 

"  Myra  may  have  gone  to  bed  by  this  time,"  I  says  as  we 
struck  Main  Street. 

"  There's  a  light  still  a-burning  in  the  setting-room," 
Clyde  says.  "  If  you  don't  mind  waiting  for  a  little  while 
outside  and  keeping  your  eye  on  the  side  door  I  won't  be 
more'n  a  few  minutes.  Excuse  me." 

He  left  me  and  run  ahead.  I  slowed  up  and  watched 
him  go  into  the  side  door  and  then  I  sat  down  on  the  edge 
of  the  sidewalk  and  tried  to  get  my  milling  thoughts  steadied 
and  bedded  down.  I  don't  think  I'd  got  more'n  two-thirds 
of  my  pipe  smoked  when  the  door  opened  again,  a  patch  of 
yellow  light. 


132  CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE 

"  Here  they  come,"  I  says  to  myself,  and  got  up. 

But  I  couldn't  make  out  more  than  Clyde,  and  I  couldn't 
make  him  out  good  after  the  door  shut.  The  next  thing,  I 
seen  him  headed  down  the  street  at  a  lively  clip  toward  the 
express  office,  but  he  hadn't  gone  a  hundred  yards  before 
he  stopped  short  and  took  off  his  hat  and  slammed  it  down 
on  the  ground.  Then  he  looked  round  and  seen  me  and 
come  pelting  up.  He  hadn't  picked  up  his  hat  and  his  hair 
was  every  which  way  and  the  rich  green  and  dark  purple  of 
his  eye  showed  up  strong  aginst  a  dead  white. 

"  Will  you  do  me  a  favor,  Mr.  Stegg  ? "  he  asks,  in  a 
strained,  husky  voice.  "If  you'll  kindly  oblige  me  by  go- 
ing back  to  the  Reverend  Spotkin. 

"  Tell  him  —  tell  him  that  I'll  see  him  later  and  explain, 
but  —  but  he  won't  need  to  wait  up  for  me." 

He  started  to  say  something  else,  but  he  couldn't  seem 
to  get  it  out,  and  then  he  turned  and  scooted  off  again.  I 
saw  him  go  into  the  express  office  and  heard  the  slam  of  the 
door,  but  though  I  hung  round  quite  a  while  I  didn't  see 
so  much  light  as  a  man  would  make  striking  a  match. 
There  wasn't  but  one  conclusion  to  come  to.  Myra  had  had 
another  of  them  streaky  spells  that  Clyde  had  mistrusted 
when  his  judgment  was  cool,  and  poor  Clyde  had  finally 
lep'  with  his  eyes  shut  and  fell  short. 

"  And  that,"  concluded  the  old  bullwhacker,  '*  is  most  al- 
ways the  way  it  goes." 

"  It  didn't  go  so  badly  for  him,  I  should  say,"  remarked 
Selby  judicially.  "  No  doubt  his  self-esteem  was  jarred, 
but  in  the  first  instance  his  prudence  saved  him  from  marry- 
ing a  somewhat  useless,  if  ornamental,  person;  and,  secun- 


CONCERNING  CAUTIOUS  CLYDE  133 

dunt,  his  luck  snatched  him  from  the  brink  of  an  alliance 
with  a  budding  holy  terror." 

"  It  didn't,  and  she  ain't  —  only  on  occasion,"  said  the 
old  bulhvhacker.  "  I've  et  Mrs.  Nivens'  own  personal 
cooking  off  a  dinner-set  that  she  done  painted  herself,  and 
in  all  respects  my  opinion  is  that  she  come  up  to  Clyde's  first 
specifications  at  the  start  and  passed  them  on  the  quarter 
stretch.  Myra  certainly  kept  Clyde  a-waiting  while  she 
made  sure  and  investigated  and  looked  round  like  she'd 
told  him  she'd  do  that  night  he  tried  to  stampede  her,  but 
a  couple  of  years  after  she  took  another  streak  and  throwed 
something  over  her  head  and  married  him.  What  she 
throwed  didn't  cost  her  more'n  ten  or  twelve  dollars  then, 
but  now,  I  understand,  it's  costing  Clyde  anywheres  from 
twenty  to  forty  dollars  a  throw,  and  she  don't  make  her  own 
dresses,  either.  So  there  you  are." 

"  Then  what's  your  theory  ?  "  asked  Slyfield. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  old  bullwhacker,  "  in  this  here 
matter  of  matrimony  my  theory  is  that  a  man  sure  ought 

to  look  ahead  mighty  careful  and  go  awful  slow But 

shucks !  It  won't  do  him  a  particle  of  good." 


IV 

THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

f  I  NHE  Sidney  stage,  with  its  six  fresh  horses  in  fine  ex- 

•"•  uberant  spirits,  had  got  a  fair  start  and  was  making 
an  easy  twelve  on  the  level  stretch  to  the  Gap  when  the 
stock  tender  of  the  Box  Elder  station  came  out  of  the  barn, 
wiping  his  forehead  and  manifesting  every  sign  of  physical 
exhaustion. 

"  Hitch !  hitch !  hitch !  in  poverty,  hunger  and  dirt !  "  he 
sighed ;  "  and  then  unhitch  and  repeat ;  and  then  feed,  and 
then  water  —  and  repeat;  and  clean  half  a  dozen  sets  of 
harness  and  curry  and  brush  —  and  repeat ;  and  if  that  ain't 
Hades  and  repeat,  you  tell  me  —  but  tell  me  by  mail  if 
you've  any  respect  for  your  hide." 

He  sank  into  the  other  chair  and  groaned.  The  old  bull- 
whacker,  who  occupied  the  rawhide  chaise-longue,  cocked  a 
contemplative  eye  at  him  and  knocked  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe  on  his  boot  heel. 

"  It  sure  is  what  you  say  it  is,  Hank,"  agreed  the  veteran. 
"  I  feel  for  you,  as  the  feller  says,  but  I  can't  reach  you.  If 
you'd  only  had  the  sense  to  get  rich  early  in  life  you 
wouldn't  have  to  put  in  four  hours  per  diem  of  grinding 
toil  for  a  trifling  sixty  and  grub.  Ain't  that  what  you're 
getting  for  these  here  arduous  tasks  ?  " 

"  It's  what  I'm  supposed  to  get,"  replied  the  stock  tender. 

134 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  135 

"  If  the  company  would  hire  a  new  paymaster  that  played 
a  square  game  I  might  get  it,  and  a  few  dollars  to  boot, 
but  a  common,  ordinary  wolf  like  me  don't  stand  no  show 
with  Jensen.  He  paid  off  the  whole  line  with  the  same  deck 
of  cards  last  month  —  just  went  through  the  hollow  form 
of  passing  out  greenbacks,  and  then  '  How  about  a  little 
game  of  stud  ?  '  —  and  took  'em  back.  All  the  boys  got  was 
the  evening's  entertainment.  Yes,  I  ought  to  have  got  rich 
early  in  life.  I  had  my  chances." 

"We've  all  had  'em,"  said  the  old  bullwhacker.  "I 
could  have  got  twenty  acres  of  the  business  section  in 
Omaha  one  time  for  a  barrel  of  whisky.  I  remember  Sioux 
City  afore  it  got  its  first  boom,  when  a  pair  of  old  boots 
would  have  made  me  the  biggest  real-estate  owner  in  town. 
But  I  didn't  have  no  more  than  a  pint  flask  when  I  was  in 
Omaha  and  I  was  afraid  of  snakes;  and  when  Opportunity 
come  a-knocking  in  Sioux  City  I  was  wearing  them  boots 
on  my  own  feet.  I've  had  elegant  shows  to  get  affluent  by 
taking  a  chance,  but  I  never  was  no  sport.  I  was  like  Sim 
.Broderick  got  to  be.  Remember  Simmy?  Used  to  be 
county  clerk  and  register  of  deeds  of  Minnekahta  in  the 
eighties." 

The  stock  tender  had  only  the  haziest  recollection  of  Mr. 
Broderick,  but  he  was  curious  to  know. 

"  Well,  I  always  liked  Simmy,"  said  the  old  bullwhacker. 
"  He  was  a  right  nice  boy,  polite  and  cheerful  and  freckled 
and  foolish.  You  take  a  sandy-haired  little  rooster  with 
them  points  and  you'll  find  most  people  like  'em.  Every- 
body in  Minnekahta  County  had  a  good  word  for  Sim 
Broderick  —  slipped  in  with  them  that  they  applied  con- 
trariwise. They'd  grant  you  that  he  was  this  and  that,  and 


136  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

that  he  done  thus  and  so  and  didn't  do  divers  and  sundries, 
but  they'd  all  tell  you  that  there  wasn't  no  real  harm  in 
him  and  that  he  was  a  right  nice  boy  and  a  sport.  He  was 
certainly  a  sport.  All  he  asked  was  a  slight  element  of  un- 
certainty and  he'd  declare  himself  in,  no  matter  what. 
Either  end  of  a  bet  would  suit  him.  He  wasn't  no  extry 
rider,  but  when  he  worked  for  the  Hashknife  he'd  straddle 
anything  that  run  and  jumped  on  four  legs,  just  out  of 
curiosity  to  see  what  would  happen;  similar,  being  a  runt 
and  having  no  science,  he'd  stand  up  to  the  huskiest  two- 
fisted  devil  that  ever  cleaned  out  a  camp,  on  the  off  chance 
of  licking  him.  If  you'd  bantered  him  to  hit  a  stick  of 
giant  with  a  twelve-pound  sledge  and  see  if  he  could  dodge 
quick  enough  he'd  have  tried  it  once. 

"  Now  I  claim  to  be  a  judge  of  human  nature.  I've 
studied  on  it  until  I  know  a  heap  more  about  folks  and 
their  weaknesses  than  what  they  do  themselves.  I  could 
tell  you  things  about  yourself  that  you'd  probably  deny 
right  out,  and  mebbe  some  of  these  days  I  will.  I  do  tell 
folks  what's  wrong  with  them  once  in  a  while  and  try  to 
point  out  how  they  can  overcome  them  things.  When  Bud 
Watts  of  the  Hashknife  let  Simmy  go  I  told  Simmy  plain 
and  straight  just  how  many  kinds  of  a  cussed  fool  he  was. 
I  done  it  as  tactful  and  kind  as  I  knew  how,  but  I  put  it  to 
him  straight. 

" '  You  ginger-haired  little  whelp,'  I  says,  '  somebody 
ought  to  take  and  just  naturally  exterminate  you.  If  you'd 
been  worth  powder  to  blow  you  to  blazes  the  wild  coyote 
would  have  been  howling  mournfully  o'er  your  narrow 
grave  long  afore  this.  Of  course  Watts  gave  you  your  time 
when  he  seen  you  was  taking  it  right  along.  You  ain't 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  137 

done  one  honest-to-goodness  day's  work  in  all  the  twenty- 
five  years  you've  used  up,'  I  says.  'What's  more,'  says 
I,  '  you're  headed,  tail  up,  for  the  penitentiary,  and  burning 
up  the  ground.' 

"  *  Sho ! '  says  Simmy.  *  Do  you  reckon  that's  so,  Mr. 
Stegg?' 

" '  I  know  it's  so,'  I  told  him.  '  And  why  is  it,  you 
wart  ? ' 

" '  Ah,  that's  the  question,'  he  says,  nodding  his  head, 
approving.  '  Now  we're  getting  down  to  cases.  Why  is 
it  ?  Being  as  it  is  so,  why  so  ?  ' 

" '  Because  you  ain't  got  a  lick  of  sense,'  I  says.  '  If 
you'd  get  down  to  some  kind  of  steady  work  and  quit  tak- 
ing chances  there'd  be  some  hope  for  you.' 

" '  What  chances  was  you  alluding  to,  Mr.  Stegg,  sir, 
please  ?  '  he  asks. 

" '  All  kinds  of  chances,  you  no-account  runt,'  I  says. 
'  For  instance,  the  chances  of  calves'  being  orphans  of  un- 
known parentage  that  nobody  ain't  interested  in  and 
wouldn't  never  miss.  Them  three  old  cows  that  you've  got 
wandering  over  the  range  may  be  right  fecund  and  fruitful, 
but  two  calves  apiece  in  a  season  is  a  liberal  allowance  for 
any  breed  I  ever  come  acoss,  and  when  you  claim  more  for 
'em  surmises  and  suspicions  is  excited  that  leads  to  trouble.' 

" '  I  reckon  that's  so,'  says  Simmy.  '  Them  stock- 
association  snoopers  don't  believe  in  large  cow  families, 
seems  like,  do  they,  Mr.  Stegg  ? ' 

" '  They  believe  in  increase  but  they  draw  the  line  at 
multiplying,'  I  says.  *  In  respect  to  them  cows,  you've 
been  working  the  multiplication  table  until  it's  mighty 
rickety  on  its  legs.  You'd  better  get  down  to  a  steady 


138  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

job,  like  I  tell  you.  They're  paying  pick-an-shovel  men 
two  dollars  and  a  half  a  day  in  the  upper  Hills.' 

"  Simmy  took  off  one  of  his  gloves  and  wiggled  his  lim- 
ber fingers.  '  Too  hard  on  the  hands/  he  says.  '  I'd  be 
dealing  every  which  way  and  spilling  cards  all  over  the 
floor.  Not  but  I'd  love  to  shovel  rock,  and  soaking  a  pick 
into  a  bank  of  conglomerate  would  thrill  me  with  joy.  I'm 
real  fond  of  any  hard  work,  but  the  trouble  is  that  I  get 
lonesome  and  have  to  come  into  town  and  mingle  with  my 
fellow  man.  I  ain't  opposed  to  exerting  myself,  Mr.  Stegg ; 
it's  just  that  I'm  of  a  sociable  disposition.  You  ain't  got 
no  idea  how  I'm  enjoying  this  here  little  talk  with  you  and 
how  I  hate  to  tear  myself  away,  which  I've  got  to  do,  nor 
how  grateful  and  thankful  I  am  to  you  for  your  advice, 
which  I  aim  to  study  over  and  profit  by.  Fare  thee  well,' 
he  says,  '  and  if  forever,  then  may  blessings  light  on  your 
old  bald  head  and  your  feet  never  get  tangled  in  your 
whiskers ! ' 

"  With  that  he  threw  his  leg  back  over  his  saddle  and 
hit  the  breeze,  and  I  murmured  a  few  words  of  direction  to 
my  bulls  and  wended  my  way,  fearing  that  I'd  slopped  a 
heap  of  wisdom  on  thorny  ground. 

"  In  a  way  I  had,  but  just  the  same,  Simmy  quit  maver- 
icking  and  sold  them  prolific  cows  of  his  and  got  him  a 
steady  job.  I  don't  take  no  credit  for  that  though,  my 
opinion  being  that  the  chances  of  a  stock-association  detec- 
tive coming  up  over  the  rise  and  getting  the  drop  on  him 
whilst  he  was  putting  his  S  B  bar  on  the  offspring  of  a 
W.  G.  cow  was  all  that  made  Simmy  rustle.  I  allow  that  he 
told  the  truth  when  he  said  he  got  lonesome  out  on  the 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  139 

range.  Anyway  he  went  to  work  at  a  steady  job  —  night 
shift  on  Mike  Kinahan's  gold  mine,  which  was  the  only 
faro  layout  in  town;  and  there  ain't  no  doubt  but  he  was 
happy  and  contented  in  that  line  of  endeavor.  He  could 
mingle  with  his  fellow  man  all  he'd  a  mind  to  at  Mike's 
and  though  faro  never  did  seem  to  me  no  financial  risk  to 
the  dealer  there  was  always  a  chance  of  excitement  with 
some  habitual  homicide  that  was  bucking  the  game. 

"  There  was  other  games  too  round  town,  and  Simmy 
would  naturally  take  a  whirl  at  them  when  he  was  off 
shift,  so  that  he  didn't  lay  up  no  money  like  I  advised  him 
to  do.  But  he  was  happy  and  contented  —  until  he  took 
one  chance  too  many  at  the  church  social  and  thereby  got 
acquainted  with  the  lady  that  he's  now  boarding  with. 

"  Her  name  at  that  time  was  Lucia  McArdle  and  she 
come  from  some  center  of  population  in  Iowa  to  visit  with 
her  sister,  Joe  Peabody's  wife,  and  liking  the  climate  con- 
cluded to  stay  and  open  up  a  milliner  store,  which  she  done. 
She  was  getting  along  in  years,  for  an  unmarried  lady  —  all 
of  twenty,  I  reckon  —  and  when  she  passed  through  a  door- 
way you  felt  like  hollering  to  her  to  duck  her  head.  On 
the  other  hand  the  door  wouldn't  have  had  to  be  more'n 
ajar  to  let  her  through  easy.  You  wouldn't  have  called 
her  homely,  because  her  eyes  was  a  nice  blue  and  her  teeth 
was  white  and  even,  and  she  had  a  plenty  of  hair,  and 
when  she  did  smile  it  made  her  look  all  the  better,  account 
of  the  plumb  serious  way  she  had  her  mouth  set  the  most  of 
the  time.  Life  was  real  and  life  was  earnest  to  Lucia,  and 
you  wouldn't  hardly  have  thought  that  she'd  have  took  up 
hats  and  bonnets  for  her  life  work,  only  I  judge  even  the 


140  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

Methodist  ladies  couldn't  very  well  go  to  church  without 
'em ;  and  looking  at  it  in  that  light  Lucia  may  have  allowed 
it  was  her  duty.  She  was  certainly  one  of  the  most  real, 
earnest,  little  church  workers  that  the  Reverend  Winship 
had,  and  when  they  got  up  this  here  social  she  was  among 
them  present,  though  she  had  her  doubts  about  it  being  quite 
proper. 

"  The  idea  was  that  the  church  ladies  made  them  each 
one  a  necktie  and  a  kind  of  a  rosette  out  of  the  same  pat- 
tern stuff,  each  lady  a  different  pattern.  Also  they  each 
fixed  up  one  lunch  for  two  and  fixed  themselves  up,  after 
which  they  went  over  over  to  the  Reverend  Winship's  house 
and  let  down  the  bars  to  admit  the  eager  rush  of  the  male 
population  of  the  town.  You,  being  a  male  and  being 
jabbed  in  the  small  of  the  back  by  the  lunkhead  right  be- 
hind you,  smiled  sort  of  like  a  Halloween  pumpkin  at  Mrs. 
Henry  Prothero,  who  gave  you  welcome  and  took  the  four 
bits  that  you  dug  up  after  you'd  been  reminded  of  it  and 
made  to  break  out  into  a  profuse  perspiration.  Then  you 
forced  your  poor  tottering  legs  over  to  Mrs.  Jim  Williams, 
who  held  a  bag  that  had  the  neckties  in,  unsight  unseen,  and 
you  grabbed  your  tie  and  was  steered  into  the  setting  room, 
with  the  warm  rich  blood  mounting  to  your  manly  ears  and 
your  grin  set  hard  by  this  time  and  making  your  face 
ache.  Through  the  glaze  in  your  eyes  you  seen  the  room 
was  full  of  beauteous  females,  all  ages  and  sizes  and  all 
styles  of  beauty,  from  the  inward  beauty  of  the  soul  and 
mind  to  the  kind  that  ain't  only  skin  deep  and  don't  seem 
to  need  to  be  no  deeper.  All  of  them  ladies  wore  rosettes, 
and  the  rules  of  the  game  was  that  you  claimed  the  lady 
that  wore  the  rosette  that  matched  the  tie  that  you'd  drawed 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  141 

out  of  the  bag,  and  later  on  you  and  her  together  et  the 
lunch  that  she'd  put  up. 

"  It's  getting  to  be  now  so's  there  ain't  the  good  feeling 
and  mutual  forbearance  between  the  preachers  and  the 
saloon  men  that  there  was  at  that  time  —  not  so  much  of 
the  live-and-let-live  spirit.  I  doubt  if  any  saloon  man  or 
gambler  in  good  standing  would  patronize  a  church  social 
in  this  day  and  age,  let  alone  closing  up  the  bar  and  the 
games  for  a  couple  of  hours  or  so  to  boost  the  thing  along. 
But  it  was  different  then.  Mike  Kinahan  never  held  it 
against  a  man  because  he  was  religious  and  had  associa- 
tions with  deacons  and  elders  and  such.  '  Get  right  down 
to  it,  and  there's  always  some  bad  in  a  man,'  Mike  would 
say.  '  He  may  not  act  it,  and  you  might  think  he  was 
totally  lost  to  all  sense  of  indecency  and  iniquity,  but  deep 
down  in  him,  hid  away  somewheres  in  the  ashes  of  his 
moral  nature,  there's  some  spark  of  bad  that  deacons  and 
elders  ain't  never  squenched ;  so  why  shun  him  and  put  the 
right  hand  of  brotherhood  behind  our  backs  when  he  holds 
hisn  out?' 

"  Holding  them  liberal  views  Mike  chased  the  crowd  out 
of  the  Eagle  Bird,  locked  the  safe  and  the  front  door  and 
went  over  to  the  sociable  with  Simmy  Broderick.  Simmy 
was  kind  of  curious  to  see  what  he'd  draw  out  of  the  bag. 
Up  to  that  time  his  luck  hadn't  been  good,  but  he  figured  that 
you  never  can  tell  and  he  might  break  even  on  the  lunch  even 
if  the  lady  was  a  dead  card.  The  lady  he  drawed  was 
Lucia  McArdle. 

"  It  was  the  first  time  that  he'd  seen  her  or  she'd  seen 
him,  and  right  away  he  knew  that  a  guiding  Providence 
had  slid  that  necktie  of  hers  into  his  hand-  He  told  her 


142  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

so  about  the  first  rattle  out  of  the  box,  and  she  didn't  seem 
to  think  that  there  was  anything  out  of  the  way  about  it. 
'  We're  led  in  all  things,  Mr.  Broderick,'  she  says. 

" '  I  reckon  that's  right,  Miss  McArdle,  ma'am,'  says 
Sim ;  '  when  we  ain't  drove  or  just  a-drifting.  As  to  lead- 
ing, you'd  sure  find  me  easy  to  halter-break  if  you  took  a 
notion  you  was  anyways  so  inclined.  Yes,  ma'am ! ' 

" '  I  don't  think  that  I  quite  understand,'  she  says,  her 
blue  eyes  wide  open  on  him. 

" '  I  mean  speaking  parabolically,  that  I'd  be  bridle  wise 
and  willing  '  says  Simmy.  '  I  wouldn't  never  balk  on  you 
nor  yet  kick  over  the  traces.  I'd  stand  without  tying, 
ma'am,  but  all  the  same  I'd  sooner  be  tied.' 

"  She  shook  her  head,  sort  of  sad.  '  No,'  she  says.  '  It 
sounds  like  it  ought  to  be  plain,  but  I'm  afraid  I'm  real 
dumb.  Seems  like  the  folks  out  here  don't  talk  like  they 
do  back  in  Iowa.  You're  a  cowboy,  ain't  you,  Mr.  Brod- 
erick ? ' 

" '  I  was,  but  I  seen  the  error  of  my  ways,  and  I'm  con- 
nected with  a  bank  now,'  says  Sim. 

"  '  I  didn't  know  that  there  was  a  bank  here,'  she  says. 

" '  Yes,  ma'am,'  says  Sim  as  solemn  as  she  was.  '  And 
a  wheel,'  he  says. 

'"A  wheel!' 

"  '  Yes,  ma'am.  Draw,  stud  and  straight,  of  course,  and 
any  other  means  of  getting  action,  from  beggar-my-neigh- 
bor  to  baccarat,  all  strictly  on  the  level.' 

"  Lucia  smiled  for  the  first  time.  '  It's  no  use/  she  says. 
'  I  guess  I'm  just  dumb.' 

"  '  Hearts  would  be  your  game,'  says  Sim,  looking  at  her, 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  143 

admiring.  '  I  don't  know  though.  If  I  had  a  fistful  I'd 
unload  'em  all  on  you.  As  it  is,  you've  got  the  onliest  one 
I  had/ 

"  '  Oh  dear,  oh  dear ! '  says  Lucia.  '  Couldn't  you  please 
talk  so  I  can  understand  you,  Mr.  Broderick?' 

"  Mr.  Broderick  dropped  his  voice,  so  I  couldn't  hear 
what  he  said,  but  I  reckon  he  made  himself  part  understood, 
because  I  seen  Lucia  blush  four  or  five  times  at  intervals 
and  smile  at  him  twice  while  they  was  eating  their  lunch 
together.  Later  on  she  went  home  with  Joe  Peabody  and 
his  wife,  and  I  was  walking  right  behind  them  and  heard 
them  a-talking  about  Simmy.  Lucia  said  she  thought  he 
was  a  right  nice  gentleman,  but  he  talked  awful  funny  and 
he  didn't  look  a  mite  like  a  banker.  Joe  Peabody  said  no 
he  didn't,  and  he  didn't  look  nothing  like  a  emperor  of 
China  either,  and  Lucia  says  why  should  he,  and  Joe  says 
that's  right,  why  should  he ;  and  then  after  a  while  I 
heard  Lucia  say  that  she  didn't  believe  a  word  of  it,  because 
if  he  was  anything  like  that  he  wouldn't  have  been  let  to 
come  in  amongst  respectable  people,  and  anyway  she'd 
promised  to  go  buggy-riding  with  him  and  she  wasn't  going 
to  break  no  promises.  They  turned  the  corner  just  then 
and  I  didn't  hear  what  Joe  said,  but  they  hadn't  got  far 
when  I  heard  him  laughing  like  a  hyena. 

"I  went  on  to  the  Eagle  Bird  to  get  something  for  the 
nerve  strain  I'd  been  suffering  from,  owing  to  me  having 
got  a  necktie  that  was  made  by  a  lady  who  had  lost  her 
husband  a  few  years  back  and  didn't  think  she'd  ever  get 
used  to  not  having  a  man  around  the  house.  Having  got 
about  three  fingers  of  relief  I  went  over  to  the  faro  table 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

and  sat  down,  and  pretty  soon  Simmy  come  in  and  we  got 
to  talking  about  church  socials.  I  allowed  that  they  was 
a  low  form  of  recreation,  with  all  the  dangers  to  an  unmar- 
ried man  that  there  was  at  a  dance  and  none  of  the  fun. 

" '  Well,  Mr.  Stegg,  sir,'  says  Simmy,  '  with  the  greatest 
respect  for  you  and  not  meaning  no  references  to  allusions, 
I  don't  think  that  nobody  but  an  old  doddering,  brindle- 
whiskered  moral  blight  would  hold  such  views  as  them.  I 
ain't  opposed  to  dances,'  he  says,  '  but  dances  don't  run  you 
up  against  noble,  high-minded  ladies  with  refined  ideas  and 
improving  conversation,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes. 
Dances  is  all  right  for  the  heedless  and  unthinking,  but  I 
never  yet  come  away  from  one  filled  plumb  up  with  lofty 
thoughts  and  realizing  my  own  orneriness  the  way  I  done 
to-night.' 

.  "  '  Mebbe  that's  so,'  I  says.  '  Was  it  Miss  McArdle  filled 
you  with  them  altitudinous  reflections?  From  where  I  was 
a-setting  I  judged  it  was  coconut  layer  cake  that  she  was 
instilling  into  you.' 

"  'It  was  good  cake  too/  says  Simmy ;  '  and  she  made  it 
herself.  Say,  ain't  it  wonderful  how  innocent  and  kind- 
hearted  and  sweet-souled  and  pure  and  lovely  and  moral- 
principled  a  woman  can  be ! ' 

"  '  It  does  beat  hell,'  I  says. 

" '  When  you  meet  up  with  a  lady  like  that  you  just 
naturally  feel  like  dirt/  says  Simmy.  'If  I  wasn't  just 
dirt  and  unworthy  of  such,  that's  the  kind  I'd  want  —  a 
lady  I  could  look  up  to/ 

" '  You  would  sure  have  to  look  up  to  Miss  McArdle, 
Simmy/  I  says,  '  unless  you  stood  on  a  chair/ 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  145 

" '  I  ain't  got  no  use  for  these  here  sawed-off,  dumpy 
women,'  he  says. 

" '  I  never  knew  a  runt  that  had,'  I  told  him ;  and  just 
then  one  of  the  nerve  cases  at  the  bar  recovered  enough  to 
break  away  and  come  over  to  get  a  little  action,  and  Simmy 
had  to  take  up  his  professional  duties. 

"  The  next  day  at  twelve-fifty-five  P.M.  in  the  afternoon 
a  shiny  buggy  with  rubber-tire  wheels  rolled  out  of  Ed. 
Bell's  livery  behind  Ed's  match  team  of  bays  that  he  never 
hitched  up  for  less  than  a  ten-dollar  note.  Driving  them 
bays  was  a  small-sized  freckled  young  man  wearing  a  new 
twenty-dollar  cream-colored  hat,  a  black-and-white  check 
suit  of  clothes  that  Jake  Grosenbeck  had  been  holding  at 
sixty-five,  a  red  silk  necktie  with  green  bars  that  never  cost 
less  than  two,  retail,  and  smoked  buck  gloves  with  yellow 
curlicues  stitched  on  the  ga'ntlets  that  must  have  brought 
the  total  cost  of  the  visible  outfit  to  a  hundred  dollars  or 
a  dollar  or  two  apast.  At  one  P.M.,  Rocky  Mountain  time, 
to  the  dot  the  bays  stopped  and  danced  in  front  of  Joe 
Peabody's  house,  at  which  the  door  opened  and  Lucia  Mc- 
Ardle  come  out  dressed  in  clothes  and  a  hat.  Three  or 
four  minutes  later  you  couldn't  see  nothing  but  a  cloud  of 
dust  and  you  couldn't  hear  nothing  around  town  but 
remarks. 

"  A  little  before  supper  time  the  buggy  and  its  contents 
got  back  and  Simmy  got  out  and  helped  Lucia  out. 

" '  It  was  a  real  lovely  ride/  says  Lucia,  just  as  she  might 
have  said  that  it  was  a  real  improving  sermon.  Then  she 
said :  '  I  hope  you  ain't  offended  by  anything  I  said,  Mr. 
Broderick.  I  kind  of  felt  it  was  my  duty.  It's  because 


146  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

gambling  of  any  kind  is  sinful.  And  it  ain't  respectable 
either.' 

" '  I  don't  blame  you,  and  you  sure  couldn't  say  any- 
thing that  would  offend  me,  ma'am/  says  Sim ;  '  and  I 
thank  you  for  the  honor  and  the  pleasure  of  your  company, 
which  I  have  sure  enjoyed.' 

"  '  Don't  name  it,'  she  says.    '  Won't  you  come  in  ?  ' 

"  '  Sure  he  will ! '  Mrs.  Peabody  calls  out  of  the  window. 
'  Sim,  you  hustle  that  rig  over  to  the  barn  and  come  back 
to  supper.  We'll  wait  for  you  —  like  one  hog  waits  for 
another,  mebbe,  if  you  don't  hurry.' 

" '  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  excuse  me,  Mis'  Peabody,'  says 
Sim,  climbing  into  the  buggy.  '  I've  got  some  business  to 
'tend  to,  thank  you  just  as  much,  ma'am.  I'll  sure  have  to 
be  excused  to-night.' 

"  He  shook  the  lines  and  drove  off,  and  you  never  seen  a 
boy  with  a  new  suit  of  clothes  and  a  red  necktie  that  looked 
less  like  he'd  just  had  a  real  lovely  ride.  He  straightened 
up  some  as  he  drove  through  Main  Street,  and  he  joshed 
back  at  Ed  about  the  way  you'd  expect;  but  as  soon  as 
he  walked  into  Mike's  place  Mike  knew  that  something 
was  wrong,  and  Simmy  didn't  keep  him  in  no  agony  of 
suspense. 

" '  Mike,  I'm  a-going  to  quit  you  cold,'  says  he.  '  It 
ain't  that  our  relations  hasn't  been  of  the  pleasantest  kind 
or  that  the  emollients  and  perquisites  ain't  satisfactory.  I 
ain't  got  no  kick  coming  whatever.  But  on  moral  grounds 
my  conscience  won't  allow  me  to  skin  my  fellow  man  for  a 
living  no  longer  —  not  in  no  such  crude  and  apparent  way 
as  gambling.  Whatever  sucker  money  I  accumulate  in 
future  has  got  to  come  through  respectable  channels  such 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  147 

as  is  approved  and  sanctioned  by  the  better  element  of  so- 
ciety and  hasn't  got  no  risk.' 

"  Mike  looked  at  him  awhile,  trying  to  study  out  just 
what  he  meant,  then  he  reached  back  of  him  and  took 
down  a  bottle.  '  I'll  go  up  to  your  -room  with  you  and  help 
you  to  bed,  Simmy/  he  says.  '  You've  got  a  touch  of 
mountain  fever.  It  ain't  nothing  serious,  but  you  mustn't 
talk  no  more.  A  good  drench  of  this  here  in  scalding  water 
with  half  a  teaspoonful  of  cayenne  will  fix  you  up  in  good 
shape.' 

"  *  I  ain't  delirious,'  says  Simmy.  '  I'm  quitting  you  — 
quitting  gambling.' 

" '  I'll  bet  you  a  hundred  dollars  to  five  that  you  ain't,' 
says  Mike;  and  the  words  wasn't  out  of  his  mouth  before 
Simmy  had  jerked  his  roll. 

" '  Put  up  you-r  money,'  says  Simmy.  '  Mr.  Stegg  here 
will  hold  the  stakes/ 

"  It  just  goes  to  show ! "  moralized  the  old  bullwhacker. 
"  A  man  with  slathers  of  experience  and  more  wisdom  than 
you  can  shake  a  stick  at  can  reason  with  a  boy  day  in  and 
day  out  and  year  after  year  until  he's  blue  in  the  face,  using 
all  kinds  of  logic  and  eloquence  and  horse  sense  —  and  all 
the  good  it  does  is  scorn  and  derision.  Then  along  comes 
some  fool  female  without  experience  or  judgment  or  even 
age  —  nothing  between  her  ears  of  a  solid  nature  but  hair- 
pins and  bony  structure  —  and  the  first  thing  you  know, 
Mister  Boy  is  breaking  his  neck  to  follow  her  instructions 
as  to  rules  of  conduct. 

"  That  was  the  way  with  Simmy.  Ten  minutes  after 
Lucia  had  told  him  that  gambling  was  sinful  he  throws  up 


148  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

a  lucrative  position  with  a  brilliant  career  ahead  of  him 
and  mebbe  a  first-class  dive  of  his  own,  with  no  idea  of 
what  he  was  a-going  to  do  next.  He  had  made  a  killing 
on  his  own  account  only  the  night  before  the  social  that 
helped  some  —  playing  Walt  Hathaway's  wheel  on  the  way 
to  Mike's.  Walt's  wheel  was  as  crooked  as  a  corkscrew 
and  Simmy  knew  it;  but  he  took  a  chance,  as  usual,  and 
Walt  got  so  excited  at  the  gold  pieces  that  Simmy  strung 
along  that  his  foot  slipped  on  the  brake  and  let  the  little 
ball  into  one  of  Simmy's  numbers  that  had  a  double  eagle 
on  it.  Besides  that  he  had  what  was  coming  to  him  from 
Mike  Kinahan,  and  all  told  he  must  have  had  close  on 
to  eight  hundred  dollars  after  he'd  bought  the  check  suit 
and  fixings;  so  he  could  afford  to  loaf  awhile.  The  trouble 
was  that  Lucia  -didn't  consider  that  loafing  was  respectable. 
There  wasn't  no  suiting  that  girl. 

"  About  a  week  after  Simmy  had  reformed,  as  he  put  it, 
he  was  explaining  to  Sam  Lafleiche  and  me  about  how  he 
was  aching  to  find  a  good  job.  Sam  was  chairman  of  the 
county  central  committee  then  and  a  good  friend  of  Simmy's 
and  a  good  friend  of  mine  and  everybody  else's,  especially 
around  about  time  for  the  primaries.  I'd  just  been  telling 
him  about  the  winning  that  Simmy  made  and  what  a  good 
thing  it  was  that  he  quit  gambling  right  away  after  he'd 
cashed  in. 

" '  What's  the  matter1  with  going  back  to  cow-punching? ' 
I  asks  Sim. 

" '  Well  sir/  says  Sim,  '  one  difficulty  about  that  is  that 
they  ain't  hiring  no  extra  hands  after  the  fall  round-ups. 
Watts  let  out  three  of  the  boys  yesterday,  and  the  W.  G. 
ain't  keeping  but  half  a  dozen  and  the  cook,  and  Red  Barlow 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  149 

aims  to  set  them  to  getting  cedar  posts  out  of  the  gulches 
through  the  winter  to  keep  up  their  circulation  and  keep 
down  expenses.  Another  thing,  if  I  did  get  a  job  on  a 
ranch  I'd  be  sort  of  expected  to  put  in  most  of  my  time 
there,  and  I've  got  my  reasons  for  wanting  to  stay  around 
town  most  of  my  time.  I  was  figuring  on  starting  some 
kind  of  business,  but  most  every  business  is  already  en- 
gaged in  more  than's  necessary;  and  then  I  ain't  got  no 
business  ability.  What  I  want  is  something  that  don't  call 
for  no  kind  of  ability  whatsoever  and  no  kind  of  exertion 
to  speak  of,  and  ain't  out  of  town,  and  pays  good,  and 
has  a  future/ 

" '  I  reckon  I  know  the  answer  to  that/  says  Sam  with 
his  wolf  grin.  *  What  you're  talking  about  is  a  county  office. 
How  would  county  clerk  suit  you  ? ' 

"  That  was  how  come  Simmy  got  to  be  county  clerk  and 
register  of  deeds  and  member  of  the  Board  of  Equalization. 
He  didn't  have  no  trouble  getting  elected,  being  popular 
and  genial  and  willing  to  put  up  for  the  campaign  expenses, 
and  having  the  right  ideas  on  equalizing  the  cow  outfits' 
taxes  when  they  was  assessed  too  high.  It  certainly  looked 
like  what  he'd  been  looking  for.  Not  that  the  county-clerk 
salary  amounted  to  much,  but  there  was  the  recording  fees 
as  register  that  he  got  for  all  the  warranty  deeds  and  mort- 
gages and  quit  claims,  and  a  boom  in  real  estate  expected 
along  in  the  spring.  And  the  best  of  it  was  that  Lucia 
was  tickled  to  death. 

"  Mrs.  Peabody  told  her  that  she  couldn't  see  why.     '  I 

thought  you  said  that  you  wouldn't  have  nothing  to  do  with 

him  unless  he  worked  at  something  respectable/  she  says. 

" '  Ain't   being    a    statesman    respectable  ? '    says    Lucia. 


150  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

'  Was  George  Washington  and  Henry  Clay  and  Daniel 
Webster  and  Abe  Lincoln  looked  down  on  because  they 
was  in  politics?  Seems  to  me  you  ain't  reasonable,  sister. 
Mr.  Broderick  expects  to  go  to  the  legislature  next  general 
election,  and  from  that  it  ain't  but  a  step  to  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States.  Ain't  that  respectable?' 

" '  There's  a  difference  of  opinion  about  that,'  says  sis- 
ter. '  I  don't  think  a  senator  has  got  any  the  edge  over  a 
square,  honest,  hard-working  gambler;  but  then,  it's  been 
twelve  years  since  I  lived  in  Iowa.  I  presume  likely  you'll 
give  up  your  milliner  business  now  ? ' 

"  '  Not  until  we're  married/  says  Lucia,  blushing.  '  Mr. 
Broderick's  wishes  is  to  wait  until  his  —  until  he's  raked  in 
enough  chips  to  stack  up  alongside  what  I've  got,'  she 
says,  giggling.  '  He  don't  want  to  take  no  chances,  and 
I  respect  him  for  it.  But  ain't  he  got  the  funniest  way  of 
talking ! ' 

"  There  ain't  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life  as  love's  young 
dream,"  quoted  the  old  bullwhacker.  "  The  trouble  is  that 
once  in  a  while  the  cover  gets  kicked  off  and  we  wake  up 
with  our  toes  frostbit.  For  a  while  Simmy  went  around- 
with  a  smile  on  his  face  and  a  song  in  his  heart.  He  had 
ordered  a  set  of  books  for  the  county  that  had  deeds  and 
mortgages  and  such  already  printed  in  'em,  so's  he  didn't 
have  to  do  much  writing,  only  to  fill  in  the  blanks,  and  he 
hired  Billy  Dickinson  to  do  that  for  him.  Billy  was  an  old 
sourdough  that  used  to  work  in  the  Homestake  office  for 
Haggin,  before  his  inebriousness  got  away  with  him,  and 
then  he  went  to  prospecting,  and  finally  drifted  into  Her- 
mosilla  and  accepted  a  position  washing  dishes  in  Jim 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  151 

Berry's  cafe,  which  he  was  working  at  when  Simmy  made 
him  his  deputy. 

"  Billy  was  no  ornament,  but  he  certainly  could  write  an 
elegant  hand,  and  when  it  come  to  figuring  up  the  tax  list 
he  was  old  first-premium  curly  cauliflower;  and  he  wasn't 
expensive,  considering.  Consequently  Simmy  had  all  the 
time  he  needed  to  draw  his  salary  and  collect  his  fees,  be- 
sides driving  Lucia  around  behind  Ed  Bell's  bays  and  taking 
her  to  oyster  suppers  and  hard-times  parties  and  sheet-and- 
pillow-case  festivals  and  such  other  doings  as  was  got  up 
by  the  Ladies'  Aid  and  the  Dorcas.  The  fees  come  in  tol- 
erable good  at  first,  being  it  was  a  long  hard  winter  and 
chattel  mortgages  frequent;  but  along  come  spring  they  be- 
gun to  drop  off,  and  instead  of  the  real-estate  boom  that  was 
expected  and  relied  on  there  was  a  new  railroad  survey 
made,  running  outside  of  the  county  line  and  into  Penning- 
ton.  Three  town  sites  was  platted  along  that  line  inside 
of  as  many  weeks,  but  that  didn't  do  Simmy  no  good,  and 
the  boy's  lip  begun  to  drag  when  there  wasn't  nobody  look- 
ing. Finally  it  got  so  bad  that  he  let  out  a  squeal. 

" '  I  ain't  going  to  get  my  seed  back  at  this  rate,'  he  says 
to  Billy  one  morning.  '  County  warrants  has  gone  down 
to  sixty.  The  sheriff's  the  only  one  of  the  boys  who's  mak- 
ing anything/ 

"'Yeah,'  says  Billy. 

" '  There  ain't  a  leaf  quivering  or  a  sail  in  sight/  says 
Simmy.  '  The  autopsy  has  been  held  on  Hope  and  the 
burial  services  is  now  taking  place  with  me  as  chief 
mourner.  I  hear  the  knell  a-knelling  slow  and  solemn.' 

" '  That's  Berry's  cow  a-browsing  round  amongst  the 
sunflowers,'  says  Billy.  '  That  cow's  got  sense.  She  ain't 


153 

bawling  about  feed  not  being  brought  to  her,  she's  rustling ; 
and  that's  the  difference  between  her  and  you.' 

"  '  As  how  ? '  asks  Simmy. 

"  Billy  got  up  and  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led  him  out- 
side and  swept  his  hand  at  the  surrounding  country.  '  Tell 
me  what  you  see  away  off  yonder,'  he  says. 

" '  Scenery/  says  Simmy.  '  It's  considerable  inspiring, 
but  not  particular  nourishing.' 

" '  It  depends  on  how  you  look  at  it,'  says  Billy.  '  The 
way  I  look  at  it  ain't  as  scenery,  but  as  territory  to  be  took 
up  and  staked  off  according  to  the  following  metes  and 
bounds,  to  wit,  and  to  be  filed  in  the  office  of  the  register 
of  deeds  in  and  for  Minnekahta  County  at  two  dollars  per 
file  by  frenzied  seekers  after  mammon;  that's  the  way  I 
look  at  it.  My  eyes  go  below  surface  indications  and  down 
to  bedrock,  and  somewheres  between  I  see  location  notices.' 

" '  You've  got  a  pair  of  right  optimistic  optics,  Uncle 
Billy,'  says  Sim.  '  You  ought  to  know  that  we  ain't  in  the 
mineral  belt  though.' 

" '  What's  the  matter  with  letting  that  belt  out  a  few 
holes  ? '  says  Billy.  '  Anyway,  you  rustle  me  a  pack  horse, 
a  fry  pan,  a  pick  and  shovel  and  give  me  a  week's  leave  of 
absence.  It  won't  hurt  nothing,  even  if  it  don't  help,  in 
which  case  you  can  extend  the  leave  indefinite  and  I'll  keep 
on  a-going  and  let  the  outfit  be  a  stand-off  to  what  wages 
should  ought  to  be  a-coming  to  me  if  matters  and  things 
was  otherwise.  I  reckon  I'll  cruise  around  some,  whether 
or  no.' 

" '  I'm  right  sorry  to  lose  you,  Uncle  Billy,'  says  Simmy, 
'  but  I  reckon  it  ain't  fair  to  hold  you.  I'll  let  you  have  my 
bed  roll  and  I  guess  I  can  get  that  little  old  pinto  pony  from 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  153 

Ed  Bell  to  pack.  Also  you're  kindly  welcome  to  this  seven 
dollars  and  a  half  that  I've  got  left.  I  won't  need  it  after 
I've  hung  myself/ 

"  Billy  told  him  not  to  talk  foolish  and  tried  to  cheer 
him  up,  but  he  didn't  have  no  good  success.  Simmy  just 
hunched  over  like  he'd  done  after  he  come  back  from  that 
first  buggy  ride  with  Lucia,  and  went  over  to  Ed  Bell's  and 
traded  him  his  pearl-handled  gun  for  the  pinto  pony.  The 
next  morning  Billy  lit  out  bright  and  early,  and  Simmy  had 
to  stay  in  the  office  all  day.  After  supper  he  slicked  up  and 
went  over  to  Joe  Peabody's,  according  to  custom,  and  Joe 
and  his  wife  went  out  on  the  porch  and  let  him  and  Lucia 
have  the  setting  room  as  usual  —  with  the  door  open  and 
the  window  shades  up  and  the  lamp  turned  up  as  high  as 
it  would  go  without  smoking,  according  to  Lucia's  notion  of 
what  was  proper  and  becoming. 

" '  You  ain't  like  yourself  this  evening,  Mr.  Broderick/ 
says  Lucia  after  a  while,  '  ain't  you  well  ? ' 

" '  Excepting  for  a  headache,  which  I  think  is  caused 
by  the  glare  of  the  light  in  my  eyes,  I'm  tolerable  middling, 
thank  you,  ma'am,'  says  Simmy.  '  I  don't  know  but  the 
draft  from  that  door  may  have  something  to  do  with  it 
too,'  he  says ;  '  and  the  chill  that  I  always  get  when  you  call 
me  "  Mr.  Broderick."  ' 

"  '  Simeon,  then,'  says  Lucia,  relenting  some.  '  Ain't  you 
reely  well,  Simeon;  or  are  you  just  a-making  sport?  I 
can't  never  tell,  you're  so  funny.' 

" '  Whatever  I  am,  I  ain't  feeling  funny  this  evening,' 
says  Sim.  *  With  ruin  a-staring  me  in  the  face  and  hope 
of  ever  being  united  to  the  best  and  loveliest  of  her  sex 
dashed  and  double-dashed  and  exclamation-pointed,  my 


154  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

spirits  is  certainly  a  considerable  depressed.  It's  this-a- 
way,  Lucia,  honey.' 

"  He  went  on  to  tell  her  the  way  it  was,  and  she  seemed 
a  considerable  sorry  for  him.  '  All  we  can  do  is  wait  and 
be  patient  though/  she  says.  *  It  ain't  like  we  wasn't  both 

young  and  couldn't  afford  to.  Ain't  there  some  way ' 

She  leaned  her  chin  on  her  hands  and  studied. 

" '  Sure  there's  a  way,'  says  Simmy,  breaking  in  on  her 
meditations.  '  If  you  would  slack  up  a  little  on  them  no- 
tions you've  got  about  games  of  chance  and  skill,  sweet- 
ness—  which  notions  is  certainly  right  and  noble  and  mag- 
nanimous, if  you  look  at  it  strict  and  rigid  —  if,  sort  of 
temporary,  you  could  wink  them  lovely  eyes  of  yourn  a 
spell,  why,  I've  got  a  daisy  hunch  that  I'd  be  in  elegant 
shape  financially  before  daylight  to-morrow  morning. 
You're  too  angel-minded  and  spotless  to  know  what  a  real 
hunch  is,  darling;  but  I  want  to  say  that  the  kind  I've  got, 
it's  a  sin  and  a  economic  waste  not  to  play  it  to  the  limit. 
I've  got  that  seven-fifty  that  Billy  wouldn't  take  yet,  and 
if  you'd  try  to  look  at  it  in  the  light  of  an  investment  —  a 
conservative  investment ' 

"  '  Simeon  Broderick,'  says  Lucia,  '  are  you  talking  about 
gambling  after  all  I've  said  about  it?  If  I  thought  you 
was,  and  was  in  earnest,  I'd  tear  your  image  from  my  heart 
and  not  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you.  If  you  ain't  got 
no  more  respect  for  me  and  no  more  aspirations  to  being 
well  thought  of  than  that,  I'm  real  disappointed  in  you, 
that's  all.  I  did  think  that  you  had  saw  the  light.' 

"  '  Sho !  I  was  only  fooling,'  Simmy  told  her.  '  I  reckon 
it's  the  way  you  said  —  you  can't  tell  it  on  me  when  I'm  in- 
dulging in  jocoseness,'  he  says.  '  Why,  I  wouldn't  gamble 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  155 

—  excepting  a  Dorcas  grab  bag  or  chances  on  a  crazy  quilt 

—  not  for  anything  you  could  mention.     No,  ma'am,  sweet- 
heart !     I'll  tell  you  —  after  this  I'll  hold  up  my  two  fingers 
crossed    when    I'm   talking   playful,   and   then  you   won't 
hurt  my  feelings  by  misunderstanding  me/ 

" '  Well,'  says  Lucia,  '  I'm  mighty  glad  that  you  don't 
really  mean  it.  I  didn't  hardly  think  you  could.  What  I 
was  a-thinking,  Simeon,  was  that  I've  got  nearly  a  thou- 
sand dollars  laid  up,  and  you  could  take  up  a  homestead  on 
Wickiup,  and  —  and ' 

" '  Not  on  your  sweet,  dear,  beautiful,  blameless  life ! ' 
says  Simmy  firmly.  '  I  ain't  starting  no  ranch  on  my  girl's 
money  —  and  my  fingers  ain't  crossed  on  that.  I'd  as  soon 
marry  a  Rosebud  squaw  for  the  government  rations. 
That's  me.  I  wouldn't  do  that  no  more'n  I'd  gamble ;  and 
anyway  ranching  is  the  worst  kind  of  gambling.  First  off 
you  bet  Uncle  Sam  eighteen  dollars  against  a  hundred  and 
sixty  acres  that  you'll  stay  five  years ;  and  then  you  gamble 
your  seed  against  the  crops  and  take  a  chance  on  hail  and 
another  chance  on  drouth  —  which  is  odds  of  forty  to  one 
anywhere  in  the  Hills  —  and  if  you  win  it's  a  life  sentence 
with  nothing  off  for  good  behavior.  No,  ma'am,  ranching 
is  too  speculative  for  one  thing;  and  for  another,  nobody 
ain't  going  to  be  able  to  say  that  Simmy  Broderick  got  his 
start  by  marrying  riches.  We  done  settled  that,  honey/ 

"  Lucia  blushed.  '  I  know  we  did,'  she  says.  '  I  just 

thought  we  —  mebbe  we  might What  are  you  doing 

to  that  lamp,  Simeon  ?  ' 

"  '  Shucks !     Now  I've  turned  it  out,'  says  Simmy. 

"  Owing  to  him  not  having  no  matches  and  not  liking  to 


ISC  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

trouble  Mrs.  Peabody  and  Joe  for  quite  a  while  Simmy  went 
home  that  night  some  comforted.  It  didn't  last  long 
though,  and  for  the  next  few  days  he  was  plumb  unhappy. 
It  was  lonesome  around  the  office  without  Billy  to  talk  to 
and  nothing  to  do  but  roll  cigarettes  and  wonder  how  he 
was  a-going  to  amass  a  thousand  dollars  to  lay  alongside 
Lucia's  thousand.  He  was  set  in  his  mind  that  there 
wouldn't  be  no  nuptials  until  he  was  able  to  see  that  thou- 
sand and  mebbe  raise  it.  He  had  too  much  self-respect. 
The  only  way  out  of  it  he  could  figure  was  to  hold  up  the 
stage  the  next  bullion  shipment,  and  he  had  his  doubts 
whether  Lucia  would  approve  of  that,  though  she  hadn't 
never  declared  herself.  The  probabilities  was  that  she 
wouldn't  think  it  respectable,  and  he  aimed  to  be  respectable 
and  do  right.  Seemed  like  Iowa  had  him  foul. 

"  When  it  got  so  that  his  thoughts  was  too  tumultuous 
he'd  stick  a  notice  on  the  office  door  and  go  around  to  Mike's 
place  and  look  on.  That  wasn't  nothing  more  than  an  ag- 
gravation though.  He'd  see  some  lucky  fool  win  big  on  a 
bobtail  flush  and  think  that  if  it  wasn't  for  Iowa  he  might 
just  as  well  have  done  that  himself;  or  he'd  notice  wrong 
discards  or  calls  that  ought  to  have  been  judicious  raises  or 
winning  hands  laid  down,  and  he'd  know  just  how  he  would 
have  played  them  hands  to  scoop  up  every  dollar  in  sight. 
He'd  stand  for  an  hour  at  a  time  by  the  roulette  table,  and 
when  the  little  ball  started  a-rolling  he'd  make  believe  in  his 
mind  that  he  was  placing  his  chips;  and  the  sums  that  he 
won,  in  his  mind,  that-away  wasn't  nothing  short  of 
fabulous. 

"  Then  he'd  tear  himself  away  and  walk  down  the  street 
to  Lucia's  millinery  and  look  at  the  hats  in  the  windows 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  157 

until  Lucia  shook  her  head  at  him,  disapproving,  and  then 
he'd  drag  himself  back  to  the  office  and  smoke  more  cig- 
arettes and  wonder  if  drowning  was  as  easy  and  painless 
as  it  was  cracked  up  to  be,  and  whether  Lucia  would  be 
faithful  to  his  memory. 

"  He  was  studying  on  that,  about  the  fifth  day  of  his 
misery,  when  the  door  opened  and  a  colored  person  edged 
in  and  asked  him  how  was  tricks.  Leastaways  he  thought 
it  was  a  colored  person  before  he  heard  him  speak,  but  hav- 
ing visions  of  Lucia  weeping  o'er  his  lonely  grave  his  own 
eyes  was  misted  up  and  he  didn't  reco'nize  Billy. 

"'How's  tricks?'  asks  Billy  again. 

"  '  Well,  well ! '  says  Simmy,  forcing  a  grin.  '  Joined  the 
Senegambian  Serenaders,  have  you  ?  Sit  down,  Br'er  Dick- 
inson, sah,  and  bring  yo'  corporosity  to  a  equilibrium  while 
I  requisate  yo'  conundrum,  sah.  Well,  how  is  tricks,  Mis- 
tah  Dickinson,  sah?  You  tell  me.' 

"  Billy  sat  down,  and  looking  very  steady  and  very  sober 
at  Simmy  he  pulled  a  couple  of  papers  out  of  his  pocket 
that  was  all  grimed  up  with  black,  like  he  was.  '  I  want 
these  here  documents  filed  the  first  thing,'  he  says.  '  They're 
location  notices  on  one  certain  tract  or  parcel  of  land,  lying 
and  being  as  hereinafter  described  and  containing  carbon- 
iferous deposits  of  coal,  similar  to  what  I've  got  on  my  face 
and  clothes.  Struck  it  in  a  gulch  about  three  miles  west  of 
Beecher  Buttes.  Simmy,  we're  rich.' 

"  '  Coal,  eh  ? '  says  Simmy,  kind  of  disappointed.  '  That's 
the  best  you  could  do  ? ' 

" '  I  reckon  it  is,'  says  Billy.  '  Of  course  it  ain't  much 
to  find  within  the  borders  of  this  county  resources  of  wealth 
beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice;  something  that's  going  to 


158  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

attract  capital  like  flies  to  the  molasses  on  a  baby's  mouth, 
bring  emigration  that  would  stagger  Castle  Garden,  turn  the 
humming  wheels  of  industry  and  locomotives  throughout 
the  len'th  and  breadth  of  our  fair  land  and  run  ferry  boats 
and  ocean  liners  o'er  the  bright  blue  wave  from  pole  to  pole. 
That  ain't  nothing.  It's  just  the  best  I  could  do,  like  you 
said.  All  the  same  I'd  just  merely  snicker  if  anybody  of- 
fered me  a  million  dollars  for  that  claim  of  mine  right  now ; 
and  the  one  I  staked  for  you  is  just  as  good.' 

" '  I'd  snicker  if  anybody  offered  me  a  million,'  says 
Simmy.  '  Snickering  wouldn't  hardly  express  my  joyful 
emotions.  Don't  look  at  me  that  wild-eyed  way,  Uncle 
Billy.  It  makes  me  nervous.  The  question  to  me  is:  Can 
we  get  anybody  else  to  stake  claims,  do  you  reckon  ? ' 

"  Billy  got  up  like  he'd  been  stung.  '  My  gracious  good- 
ness and  three  hands  around ! '  he  says.  '  Here  I  give  this 
impecuniary  pollywog  the  Philadelphia  Mint  and  the  United 
States  Treasury  and  all  he  can  talk  about  is  two-dollar  re- 
cording fees!  Listen,  you  bat-eyed,  under-sized,  short- 
weight  tomtit :  Do  you  understand  I've  took  a  sack  of  that 
coal  over  to  Bob  Milligan  and  he's  tried  it  out  in  his  forge 
and  he  says  it's  the  best  all-round  coal  and  gives  the  dandiest 
welding  heat  of  any  coal  he  ever  seen  or  heard  tell  of  —  no 
slag  and  a  fine  ash  and  we've  got  enough  of  it  to  stoke  hell 
for  a  thousand  years? 

" '  Listen :  Six  months  after  I  take  the  public  into  my 
confidence  there's  going  to  be  hoists  and  culm  heaps  and 
coke  ovens  and  breakers  and  sidetracks  and  main  lines  and 
miners'  shacks  and  black  smoke  from  the  Beecher  Buttes  to 
Blueblanket.  I'm  telling  you ! ' 

"  '  Good ! '  says  Simmy,  brightening  up.     '  You  talk  like 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  159 

that  when  you  take  the  public  into  your  confidence  and  I 
don't  know  but  we  can  get  a  little  remunerative  employment 
in  this  office  after  all.  But  don't  let  me  keep  you  from  get- 
ting confidential  right  away,  Uncle  Billy  —  and  don't  wash 
your  face ;  leave  it  the  way  it  is  —  and  if  —  I  mean  I'll  split 
the  recording  fees  with  you,  Uncle  Billy/ 

"  Billy  said  a  few  things  that  had  a  good  welding  heat 
to  them  and  went  back  to  Bob  Milligan's  blacksmith  shop. 
Simmy  put  the  two  location  notices  on  record,  just  to  pass 
time,  and  after  a  while  he  went  to  lunch.  Ed  Bell  was  the 
only  man  at  the  table  at  Berry's  and  he  told  Simmy  that 
he'd  let  out  six  saddle  horses  and  four  rigs  to  a  lot  of  crazy 
Jakes  who  was  going  out  to  the  coal  fields  that  Billy  Dickin- 
son had  discovered  out  Blueblanket  way,  and  Billy  had  col- 
lected a  five-dollar  bill  from  each  one  of  them  for  locating 
them.' 

" '  I  guess  Billy  aint  no  crazy  jake,'  says  Simmy. 

"Well,  the  Beecher  coal  boom  started  that-away.  It 
wasn't  no  frenzied  rush,  but  there  was  twenty-six  location 
notices  filed  the  next  day,  and  from  that  on  business  in  the 
register's  office  was  just  about  tolerable  lively.  Simmy's 
hair  come  out  slick  again,  and  every  week  he  counted  up  the 
receipts  he  felt  himself  getting  about  a  hundred  dollars 
nearer  to  Lucia.  Lucia  was  mighty  pleased  to  find  that 
Providence  was  justifying  her  good  opinion  of  it  too;  also 
that  Simmy  was  acquiring  habits  of  industry,  owing  to  him 
not  being  able  to  coax  Billy  Dickinson  back  into  the  office, 
even  for  half  the  fees.  Billy  was  over  at  his  claim  most 
all  the  time,  doing  development  work  and  keeping  an  eye 
on  the  distant  horizon  for  Eastern  capital.  He  had  come 


160  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

down  on  his  price  to  half  a  million  and  a  royalty,  in  the 
second  month,  but  that  didn't  signify  that  he  wasn't  plumb 
full  of  faith.  He  just  didn't  want  to  hog  everything.  He 
tried  to  get  Simmy  to  do  some  work  on  the  claim  that  he 
had  staked  for  him,  but  Simmy  didn't  seem  to  be  inter- 
ested. 'A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush,'  he 
says.  '  Little  by  little  makes  a  lot ;  a  good  thing  and  a  sure 
thing  is  two  things.  Anyway  there's  no  rush  about  the 
claim;  it  won't  run  away.' 

"  '  It  might  be  jumped,'  Billy  told  him.  '  Don't  never  put 
off  till  to-morrow  what  you  can  do  to-day;  safe  bind,  safe 
find;  if  all  your  eggs  is  in  one  basket  you  can't  have  too 
many  irons  in  the  fire,  the  way  I  look  at  it ;  but  you  do  what 
you  feel  like,  only  don't  say  I  didn't  tell  you.' 

"  Simmy  told  Lucia  what  Billy  had  said  that  night.  '  I 
s'pose  I  might  hire  a  man  to  go  out  there  and  do  enough 
work  to  hold  it,'  he  says. 

"  Lucia  asked  him  how  much  it  would  cost,  and  he  told 
her  about  a  hundred  dollars.  '  It  looks  like  gambling  a 
hundred  dollars,'  he  says.  And  Simmy  told  her  that  was 
the  reason  he  hadn't  done  it.  It  looked  that  way  to  him. 
'  Poor  old  Billy ! '  he  says.  '  He  will  take  chances.  If  he'd  . 
had  a  good,  Iowa-raised,  moral-minded  girl  to  keep  him 
out  of  the  path  of  destruction  when  he  was  younger  he 
might  have  amounted  to  something.  It  sure  makes  me 
shudder  when  I  look  at  him  and  think  what  I'd  have  been 
if  you  hadn't  have  took  a  hold  on  me.' 

" '  It  makes  me  glad  and  thankful,'  says  Lucia.  '  Just 
see  how  lovely  it's  all  a-coming  out !  I  knew  it  would.' 

§< '  So  did  I,'  says  Simmy.  '  I'd  have  bet  my  last  dollar 
on  it.  I've  been  talking  to  Lafleiche  and  it  looks  like  it  was 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  161 

a  cinch  that  I  get  the  nomination  for  the  legislature.  It's 
going  to  cost  a  little  money,  but  I'll  be  able  to  make  the  riffle 
before  the  time  comes  to  put  up.' 

"  It  wouldn't  have  been  no  trouble  at  all  for  him  to  have 
reached  out  and  knocked  on  wood,  but  Lucia's  eyes  was 
a-shining  so's  he  couldn't  think  of  nothing  else  just  then; 
and,  just  as  you  might  expect,  business  begun  to  fall  off 
right  from  that  date.  Days  went  by,  and  not  a  location 
notice  filed;  then  come  a  little  spurt  of  quit  claims,  and 
then  they  pinched  out. 

"  One  morning  Simmy  was  in  O.  P.  Ferguson's  store, 
he  heard  O.  P.  turn  down  a  fellow  who  wanted  to  trade  a 
good  coal  claim  for  a  small  bill  of  groceries  and  it  wasn't 
long  after  that  that  Billy  Dickinson  come  into  town  with  a 
pack  on  the  little  pinto  and  allowed  that  he  was  on  his  way 
to  the  northern  Hills  to  work  a  placer  that  he'd  passed  up 
about  five  years  back. 

"  '  I've  got  my  choice  between  the  gold  pan  and  the  dish- 
pan,'  he  told  Simmy.  '  One  thing  about  placer,  if  you  get 
anything  you  get  something,  and  you  get  it  without  the  aid 
or  consent  of  Eastern  capital  and  railroads.  I  never  did 
take  no  stock  in  coal.  I  just  discovered  it  to  show  I  could 
if  I  wanted  to,  but  it  ain't  no  occupation  for  a  white  man. 
What  do  we  want  with  coal  anyway,  when  we've  got  good 
pitch  pine?  Well,  Simmy,  you  loan  me  twenty-five  dollars 
and  I'll  forgive  you  for  talking  me  into  all  this  foolishness 
and  be  hitting  the  trail/ 

"  Simmy  tried  to  get  him  to  take  the  half  of  the  location 
fees,  but  Billy  wouldn't  hear  to  it.  All  he  wanted  was 
twenty- five  dollars,  and  when  Simmy  gave  it  to  him  he  lit 
out.  Seems  like  I  heard  of  him  making  a  strike  in  Cceur 


162  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

d'Alene  a  year  or  two  after  that,  but  it  may  have  been  some 
other  Billy  Dickinson.  Anyway  he  went,  and  Simmy  knew 
that  when  he  gave  up  there  wasn't  no  foundations  solid 
enough  to  build  air  castles  on. 

"  About  a  week  after  that  a  Deadwood  sport,  name  of 
Reed  Snumshaw,  strayed  into  Mike  Kinahan's  place,  and 
when  he  come  out  he  had  Mike's  bank  roll  and  a  bill  of  sale 
for  tables  and  bar  fixtures.  Simmy  felt  real  sorry  for  Mike, 
but,  as  he  told  Lucia,  it  went  to  show  what  a  young,  ambi- 
tious, nervy  man  could  do  in  a  few  short  hours,  without 
friends  or  influence  or  money  more'n  enough  to  buy  a  stack 
of  whites.  *  I  ain't  defending  this  Snumshaw,'  he  says. 
'  There  ain't  no  denying  but  he  took  hazardous  risks,  which 
is  immoral,  like  you  say.  But  just  see  what  he  done !  He 
told  me  that  he  had  a  hunch  he'd  win,  but  I  bet  it  wasn't 

no  such  a  hunch  as  I  had  that  time Well,  there  ain't 

no  use  talking  about  it,'  he  says,  sighing ;  '  but  it  sure  looks 
like  I  won't  be  among  them  present  when  the  next  legis- 
lature convenes  and  assembles  at  Bismarck.' 

" '  Simeon,'  says  Lucia,  '  I  can't  help  thinking  that  down 
in  your  secret  heart  you've  got  hankerings  for  gains  got  by 
hazardous  risks  instead  of  honest  toil  and  saving  and  a 
safe  five  per  cent  interest.  Now  if  you  want  me  to  keep 
right  on  loving  you  you've  got  to  promise  me  faithful  that 
you  won't  never  gamble  none  whatsoever/ 

"  Simmy  promised  faithful,  and  while  it  was  fresh  on  him 
a  little  dried-up,  curly-black-whiskered,  bandy-legged  man 
with  coal  dust  on  his  neck  come  into  the  office  and  intro- 
duced himself  as  Mr.  Griffith  ap  Morgan  ap  Jones. 

" '  Commonly  known  as  "  Aps," '  says  the  little  man. 
'  I'm  a  darling  and  a  daisy  and  a  killaloo  bird,'  he  says, 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  163 

mighty  boastful.  '  Luck's  my  pup  and  follows  me  around,' 
he  says.  '  Any  man  that  does  me  a  favor  wears  diamonds 
in  the  near  future,  and  the  man  that  bucks  my  game  is  a 
prey  to  bitter  and  unavailing  regrets  shortly  subsequent. 
I'm  cold  pizen  with  no  anecdote,  or  I'm  milk  and  honey  blest 
—  according  as  you  want  to  take  me.  I've  jumped  your 
coal  claim  and  I  propose  to  work  it,  and  I'd  like  to  have  you 
file  the  relocation.  Short  and  sweet,  that's  me.' 

"  '  You're  kindly  welcome,  Mr.  Aps,'  says  Simmy.  '  The 
favor's  all  the  other  way,  and  the  recording  fee  is  two  dol- 
lars, cash  money,  payable  in  advance.  I'll  be  glad  to  make 
you  out  a  quit  claim  to  make  you  feel  quite  safe,  if  you  want 
to  pay  the  fees  for  that  too,  which  is  two  for  the  documents 
and  two  for  recording  —  six  dollars  in  all cash.' 

"  'That's  the  point,'  says  Aps.  '  At  the  present  time  I 
happen  to  be  broke.  Now  just  because  I  like  your  looks 
and  because  you  take  your  loss  like  a  sport,  I'm  going  to 
give  you  a  half  interest  in  that  claim  and  to  all  revenues  ac- 
cruing, which  will  be  princely.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  re- 
cord your  deed  and  relocation  and  give  me  an  order  on  the 
store  for  what  I  need  to  start  on.  I  reckon  ten  dollars' 
worth  would  cover  the  ground.  Don't  thank  me;  you're  a 
man  it's  a  pleasure  to  obligate.' 

" '  Mr.  Aps,  I  sure  appreciate  your  generosity,'  says 
Simmy.  '  I  just  naturally  can't  help  thanking  you,  but 
just  the  same  I  ain't  going  to  take  advantage  of  your  kind- 
ness. All  you  need  to  do  is  to  dig  up  them  fees,  or  fee, 
and  keep  your  revenues  for  your  own  exclusive  use  and  be- 
hoof. No  more,  and  no  less.  As  Mr.  Macbeth  says,  there 
ain't  no  speculation  in  my  eyes.' 

"  '  You  don't  understand,'  says  Aps.     '  Coal  mining  is  my 


164  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

strong  suit.  I  was  raised  to  it.  I  know  coal  with  my  eyes 
shut  and  my  hands  tied.  I've  et  coal  and  drunk  coal  and 
slept  on  coal  and  wore  underwear  made  out  of  coal  sacks 
for  thirty  years.  That  claim  of  mine,  which  was  yours, 
has  got  a  seventeen-foot  vein  and  a  sandstone  roof,  and 
not  a  smither  of  slate  or  bone  in  it.  The  worst  I  know  of 
it  is  a  three-inch  streak  of  clay,  and  that's  nothing  at  all. 
Do  you  know  what  all  that  means?  Speculation!  I'd  be 
ashamed  to  talk  that  way!  Don't  tell  me  that  you're  a 
cheap  skate  and  that  you  pass  up  a  gilt-edge  proposition  like 
I'm  making  you.  Don't  tell  me  that  you  are  a  pussylani- 
mous  peanut  and ' 

"  *  I  won't,'  says  Simmy ;  '  and  as  a  friendly  well-wisher 
I  wouldn't  advise  you  to,  either.  I'm  a  level-headed,  cool- 
judgmented  believer  in  the  bird  in  the  hand.  I  like  to  hear 
them  warbling  in  the  bush,  but  I  don't  lavish  no  money  on 
salt  to  sprinkle  their  little  tail  feathers.  Also  I'm  long- 
suffering  —  but  no  longer  than  is  reasonable ;  and  I  feel  you 
are  wasting  valuable  time  here,  Mr.  Aps,  sir.' 

"  *  I  ain't  in  no  rush,'  says  Aps. 

" '  I  was  talking  about  my  time,'  says  Simmy.  '  Would 
you  be  so  obliging  and  accommodating  as  to  close  the  door 
behind  you  as  you  go  out  ? ' 

"Aps  closed  the  door  as  requested,  but  he  opened  it 
again  and  shoved  in  his  head. 

" '  Don't  you  never  tell  me  that  you're  a  sport/  he  says, 
and  then  disappears. 

"  Simmy  picked  up  a  paperweight  and  held  it  ready  for 
a  minute  or  two;  then  he  laid  it  down  again  and  groaned. 
'  No,  I  ain't  no  sport/  he  says.  '  I  ain't  no  sport.  I'm 
what  he  said. 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  165 

"  '  And  I  bet  the  bow-legged  little  cuss  knows  what  he's 
talking  about/  he  says.  '  No,  I  won't  bet,  but  —  I've  got 
a  hunch  that  Uncle  Billy  got  cold  feet  too  soon.' 

"  Along  late  in  the  afternoon  he  was  still  a-musing  when 
the  door  opened  and  Aps  come  in  again,  grinning,  and  threw 
down  the  relocation  notice.  '  Make  out  your  quit  claim 
and  file  that  there,'  he  says,  and  with  that  he  pulls  out  a  roll 
of  bills  as  big  as  a  bolster  and  skins  off  a  couple  of  fives. 
'  I  found  a  party  with  real  sporting  blood,'  he  says,  '  and 
you've  missed  your  chance.' 

"  '  I'm  six  dollars  ahead  of  the  game,  the  way  I  figure 
it,'  says  Simmy.  '  Thank  you,  sir.  Here's  your  change, 
and  I'll  have  both  documents  ready  for  you  in  about  an 
hour  if  you  want  to  take  them  with  you.' 

"  '  I'll  so  do,'  says  Aps.  '  I'll  go  defray  some  of  this 
money  that  my  half-interest  partner  has  put  glad  and  lib- 
eral, and  when  I'm  through  I'll  be  back.  You  poor,  poor 
sucker ! ' 

"  '  Shut  the  door  after  you,  if  you'll  be  so  kind  and  con- 
descending,' says  Simmy. 

"  Aps  done  so,  and  then  opened  it,  like  before.  '  When 
me  and  my  partner  drives  apast  you  in  my  four-horse  ba- 
rooch,  a-spattering  mud  in  your  eye,  them  six  dollars  will 
be  ashes  and  wormywood  in  your  mouth,'  he  says.  '  And 
they  told  me  you  was  a  sport ! ' 

"  He  was  gone  before  Simmy  could  grab  the  paperweight, 
and  he  didn't  come  back  until  he'd  got  his  trading  done  and 
had  two  or  three.  Then  he  offered  to  shake  the  dice,  first 
flop,  his  interest  in  the  mine  against  Simmy's  six  dollars. 
Simmy  wouldn't  do  that,  and  wouldn't  shake  when  Aps 
made  it  ten  cents  instead  of  six  dollars.  Aps  said  he  didn't 


166  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

hardly  think  he  would,  but  being  a  dead-game  sport  himself 
he'd  give  him  a  last  chance.  '  I'll  shake  for  anything  you 
say,'  he  says. 

" '  You  must  be  subject  to  chills,'  says  Simmy.  '  Me,  I 
ain't  no  aspen  leaf.  I  wish,  if  you  ain't  got  no  further  busi- 
ness, that  you'd  conduct  that  jag  of  yours  outside  —  and 
shut  the  door  behind  you  if  you  please,  sir! ' 

" '  And  you  call  yourself  a  sport ! '  says  Aps.  But  he 
went ;  and  that  time  he  didn't  come  back. 

" '  Well,'  Simmy  says,  '  if  it  wasn't  for  Lucia,  or  —  or 
if  Lucia  wasn't  so  dad-blamed  —  so  high-minded  and  un- 
compromised,  bless  her  sweet  innocent  soul !  Well,  she's 
worth  it  —  or  she  comes  so  dog-gone  near  being  worth  it 
that  there's  no  fun  in  it.  I'm  sure  a  lucky  boy  to  have  won 
that  trusting  little  heart,  and  I'm  a  low  dog  if  I  don't  do 
the  way  she  wants.' 

"  But  he  had  to  relieve  his  mind  by  telling  Lucia 
about  it. 

, "  '  I  ain't  regretting  that  I  took  your  advice  and  let  that 
claim  slide,'  he  says.  '  No,  sweetheart ;  I'm  glad,  for  it 
sure  looked  like  a  gamble.  But  I  feel  it  in  my  bones  that 
right  there  I  turned  my  back  on  the  Vanderbilt  gang  and 
took  the  other  trail.  And  I'm  rejoiced  clear  down  to  my 
boots  that  I  didn't  let  myself  be  led  by  that  Welsh  rabbit  into 
a  course  that  would  have  been  against  my  conscience,  but 
all  the  same  something  whispers  to  me  that  he's  a-going  to 
make  the  riffle,  and  some  unprincipled  person  that  staked 
him  is  a-going  to  get  rich  cheap.  But  I'm  glad  it  wasn't 
me.  Yes,  ma'am,  girl,  if  I've  got  you  that's  riches  more 
than  I'm  deserving  of.' 

"  Right   there   he  got  the   surprise   of   his   life.     Lucia 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  167 

stooped  down  from  her  queenly  height,  and  blushing  like  a 
suit  of  winter  flannels  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
kissed  him.  '  You  darling  man ! '  she  says.  *  Oh,  Simmy, 
I  guess  it's  me  that's  undeserving ! ' 

"  Before  Simmy  could  realize  what  had  happened  she 
made  a  grab  at  his  hair  and  wooled  it ;  then  she  hugged  him 
again  and  kissed  him  real  energetic.  Then,  as  Simmy 
showed  signs  of  recovering  from  the  shock  and  acting  up, 
she  broke  away  and  slapped  his  face. 

" '  You're  forgetting  of  yourself,  Mr.  Broderick,'  she 
says. 

"  '  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lucia,'  says  Simmy,  took  aback 
considerable;  and  then  he  got  surprise  Number  Three,  for 
Lucia  started  laughing.  You've  heard  of  these  here  peals 
of  merriment.  Well,  that  ain't  scarcely  describing  it,  be- 
cause it  was  more  so.  Anyway,  it  brought  her  sister  a-run- 
ning,  and  it  was  quite  a  while  before  she  quieted  down.  A 
little  later  on  she  walked  down  to  the  gate  with  Simmy  and 
told  him  good  night  there. 

"  '  You've  made  me  real  happy,'  she  says. 

" '  1  aim  to  do  that  right  along,'  says  Simmy. 

" '  I  couldn't  help  liking  you,  Simeon/  she  proceeds,  'but 
I  had  my  doubts  about  you  until  you  told  me  how  noble 
you  acted  about  that  coal  mine.' 

"  '  You  didn't  need  to  have  no  doubts,'  says  he ;  '  and  you 
don't  need  to  call  me  Simeon  no  more.  You  called  me 
Simmy  a  while  back.' 

"'Do  you  like  that  better?'  she  asks  softly.  'Well, 
Simmy  dear,  I  guess  you'll  do  to  tie  to.' 

"  After  Simmy  got  home  that  night  and  come  to  himself 


168  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

a  little  he  wondered  how  he  got  there  without  bumping  into 
something.  He  was  sure  in  a  whirl.  Lucia  had  kissed  him 
and  rumpled  his  hair  with  her  lily  fingers  just  like  she 
wasn't  a  holy  heavenly  angel  that  it  took  all  a  man's  nerve 
to  be  even  sort  of  familiar  with!  And  she  had  laughed 
right  out,  as  near  like  whooping  as  a  lady  could !  And  she 
had  called  him  Simmy  twice,  and  told  him  he'd  do  to  tie 
to.  Simmy  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  be  that  kind 
of  a  hitching  post. 

"  He  sure  was !  Wrought  iron,  with  a  welded  ring  and 
anchored  in  granite  four  foot  below  ground.  They  got  to 
calling  him  *  Surething  Sim '  around  town,  and  even  that 
didn't  faze  him.  From  not  taking  chances  with  his  money 
he  got  so  he  didn't  take  chances  on  anything  else  —  no 
more'n  he  could  help.  He  kept  watch  of  himself  all  the 
time,  and  if  he  even  got  to  feeling  weak-kneed  all  he  had  to 
do  was  go  up  to  see  Lucia,  and  he'd  come  back  braced  up 
for  anything.  She  was  getting  quite  a  lot  of  Eastern  sur- 
face rubbed  off  by  that  time.  She  smiled  oftener  and 
laughed  easier  and  got  a  little  habit  of  humming  tunes  while 
she  worked  in  her  store.  From  what  Joe  Peabody  and  his 
wife  said  she  wasn't  so  particular  about  having  the  sitting 
room  in  a  blaze  of  light  when  Simmy  and  her  occupied  it, 
and  she  hardly  ever  told  about  how  they  done  back  in  Iowa. 

"Things  went  along  that  way  until  the  fall  before 
Simmy's  term  was  up  and  near  time  for  convention.  Then 
one  morning  Sam  Lafleiche  come  into  the  office  and  talked 
slate. 

" '  Sam/  says  Simmy,  '  I  reckon  you  might  as  well  spit 
on  your  sponge  and  wipe  my  name  off.  The  legislature  is 
too  rich  for  my  blood;  likewise  running  again  for  county 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  169 

clerk.  It  would  take  all  I've  got  to  make  the  race,  and  then 
it's  a  gamble  if  I  win.  My  motto  is  if  you've  got  jack,  ten, 
nine,  eight  and  another  jack,  hang  on  to  your  pair  and  don't 
take  chances  on  the  draw  for  the  seven-spot  or  the  queen. 
Not  any  in  mine !  I'll  stay  here  until  the  March  winds  do 
blow,  do  blow,  and  then  retire  to  private  life,  thank  you 
kindly.' 

"  Sam  tried  to  argue  him  out  of  it,  but  he  couldn't  stir 
Surething  Sim.  Even  Lucia  couldn't.  She  had  kind  of 
set  her  heart  on  him  going  to  Bismarck,  but  of  course  when 
he  showed  her  that  he'd  be  risking  every  last  cent  on  not 
much  more  than  an  even  chance  she  had  to  give  up.  Then 
he  explained  to  her  that  as  the  county  clerk's  office  was  like- 
wise a  gamble  he  was  contemplating  buying  out  Pete  Grip- 
pen's  hardware  with  what  he'd  saved,  having  looked  into 
the  same  close  and  careful  and  figuring  that  he  couldn't 
lose. 

"  That  was  the  way  it  went.  He  bought  Pete  out  and 
hired  a  clerk  to  help  him  and  put  in  his  time  between  the 
store  and  the  office,  working  like  a  nailer  until  March,  when 
he  turned  over  the  office  to  the  new  register  and  humped 
himself  in  the  store  exclusive.  He'd  scarcely  got  out  of 
the  office  though  when  the  coal  boom  started  up  again  and 
the  new  register  was  swamped  with  relocation  notices. 

"  It  certainly  did  seem  sort  of  aggravating,  because  this 
time  it  looked  like  lasting.  Aps  had  been  working  all  sum- 
mer and  winter  on  his  claim  and  he'd  got  some  real  coal 
men  interested  somehow.  Mostly  there  was  rumors  and 
talk  at  first,  but  that  much  seemed  sure.  Aps  himself  when 
he  come  into  town  never  had  much  to  say,  except  to  Simmy. 
He'd  always  make  a  point  of  dropping  in  on  Simmy  and 


170 

asking  him  if  he  wasn't  about  ready  to  draw  straws  or  pitch 
at  a  crack  or  match  pennies  or  something,  and  Simmy  hated 
the  sight  of  him,  though  he  never  let  on  that  it  plagued  him. 
Anyway  strangers  kept  a-coming  into  town  all  the  time  and 
the  relocations  was  made  and  work  done  on  the  claims. 
Bell's  livery  done  a  land-office  business,  and  Berry's  cafe 
likewise.  Jim  had  to  build  an  addition  to  the  cafe  to  bed 
down  the  overflow  from  the  hotel.  One  day  the  stage 
brought  in  a  party  that  come  from  Omaha,  and  two  of  the 
members  wore  white  waistcoats  and  sideburns.  It  looked 
good.  And  it  kept  right  on  looking  good. 

"  Well,  one  day  Simmy  went  into  the  register's  office 
to  look  up  the  standing  of  a  party  that  he  didn't  want  to  take 
chances  on,  and  he  found  Sam  Lafleiche  in  there  gassing 
with  Johnny  Burke,  the  new  register.  They  both  grinned 
when  they  seen  him,  first  at  him  and  then  at  each  other. 
Simmy  asked  Burke  how  was  tricks  and  Burke  told  him  that 
he  was  just  thinking  of  ordering  a  new  safe  to  accommo- 
date the  specie  he  was  taking  in.  Sam  Lafleiche  laughed. 

"  '  Yes,'  says  he,  '  and  Simmy  didn't  see  his  way  clear  to 
risk  a  hundred  dollars'  campaign  expenses  for  this  office. 
Sorry  now,  ain't  you,  Sim  ? ' 

" '  Not  any,'  says  Simmy.  *  I  had  one  of  these  booms 
myself.  And  then,  it  helps  the  hardware  business  some. 
Small  profits  and  quick  returns  suits  me.  Slow  and  steady 
is  my  motto.' 

" '  Too  bad  you  ain't  more  of  a  sport,  though,'  says  Sam, 
grinning. 

" 4  Sim  likes  to  play  safe,'  says  Burke,  grinning  back. 

" '  And  that's  true  talk  too,'  says  Simmy,  chipper  and 
cheerful. 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  171 

"  All  the  same  it  got  under  his  skin.  His  principles  was 
his  principles,  but  he  didn't  like  to  be  accused  of  not  having 
horse  sense. 

"  '  You  had  a  claim,  didn't  you  ? '  says  Johnny,  winking 
at  Sam.  '  Quit-claimed  it  to  Aps,  didn't  you  ?  And 
wouldn't  stake  him  to  a  bill  of  groceries  for  a  half  interest  ?  ' 

"  '  Sure,'  says  Simmy.  '  Say,  you  boys  are  mighty  myste- 
rious and  mirthful  this  morning.  What's  the  joke?' 

"  '  Oh,  nothing  much,'  says  Johnny.  '  Only  Aps  has  quit- 
claimed too.  To  a  Chicago  syndicate.  Consideration  twen- 
ty-three thousand,  five  hundred  dollars  and  other  valuable 
considerations  —  which  is  royalties,  Aps  says.' 

"  '  Good  for  him,'  says  Simmy,  calm  and  pleasant.  '  Now 
let  me  look  at  that  mortgage  record,  Johnny.  I've  got  to 
hurry  back  to  the  store.' 

"He  looked  at  the  record,  but  he  never  knew  what  he 
was  looking  at.  He  shut  the  book  in  a  minute  or  two  and 
pushed  it  back  to  Burke  with  a  sunny  smile.  He  even  rolled 
a  cigarette  and  passed  a  remark  or  two  about  the  weather 
before  he  started  down  the  street  to  the  store,  and  neither 
Burke  nor  Lafleiche  had  any  idea  that  he  was  put  out  by 
the  news.  But  he  was.  A  heap!  And  when  he  walked 
into  the  store  and  found  Aps  a-setting  on  the  counter  in  a 
new  suit  and  with  his  face  washed  all  but  the  black  rims 
around  his  eyes,  swinging  his  bandy  legs  and  grinning,  he 
turned  sick  to  the  stomach  and  his  knees  trembled  under 
him. 

" '  Here's  the  old  sport ! '  Aps  hollers,  kicking  up  his 
heels.  '  Here's  the  reckless,  roistering  gamester !  Here's 
the  prodigal,  devil-may-care,  neck-or-nothing  let-'er-go-Gal- 
lagher !  Have  you  heard  the  news?' 


172  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

" '  I  have/  says  Simmy,  '  and  them  that  told  me  didn't 
have  to  yell  like  a  coyote.  Making  all  due  allowances,  I'll 
have  to  ask  you  to  keep  that  slack  mouth  of  yours  about 
half  or  three-quarters  shut,  please,  if  you'd  just  as  soon. 
I've  got  a  headache.' 

' '  It's  bile,'  says  Aps,  kicking  harder  than  ever  with  glee. 
'  It's  bile  and  gall  and  bitterness,  thinking  what  you've 
missed  by  not  having  no  sporting  blood.  Honest,  ain't  you 
burning  and  consuming  with  enviousness  and  mortifying 
with  melancholious  remorse  this  minute?' 

"  Simmy  turned  pale. 

*' '  I'd  hate  to  be  afraid  to  take  a  chance,'  Aps  mocks  him, 
shaking  his  head.  '  I  feel  sorry  for  you.  You'll  never  get 
rich  like  me,  with  that  bump  of  caution  all  swelled  up. 
Why  ain't  you  like  me  ?  I'll  play  any  man  for  money,  chalk 
or  marbles  any  time.  I'm  going  to  play  this  here  eleven 
thousand  I've  got  and  make  it  fifty  thousand  before  the 
week's  out/ 

" '  You'll  be  busted  flat  before  the  night's  out/  says  Sim. 

" '  I  ain't  afraid  to  take  a  chance  on  it,  you  see/  says 
Aps.  '  I  ain't  like  you.  I've  been  busted  flat  many's  the 
time,  but  I  never  got  cold  feet  in  a  warm  room.  Smoke  up, 
Broderick!  Let  me  teach  you  tiddledywinks.  We'll  play 
for  matches,  the  loser  to  pay  for  the  box.  .  .  .  Too  risky  ? ' 

"  Simmy  breathed  hard  and  looked  at  him  long.  Then 
all  of  a  sudden  he  walked  to  the  far  end  of  the  store  and 
opened  the  safe.  In  a  minute  or  two  he  come  back  to  where 
Aps  was  laughing  and  slapping  his  legs,  and  his  hands  was 
full. 

" '  Here's  all  the  money  I've  got  in  the  store/  he  says, 
slamming  it  down  on  the  counter.  '  Here's  my  bank  book 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  173 

in  the  Rapid  National,  balanced  to  yesterday.  Here's  an 
inventory  of  the  stock  and  the  lease  of  the  building.'  He 
threw  down  the  papers  and  unbuttoned  his  vest.  '  And 
here's  my  shirt,'  he  says.  '  About  the  same  size  as  yours. 
Now  you  little  smutty-nosed,  wide-mouthed,  four-flushing 
fag  end  of  nothing,  if  you  want  one  and  all  of  them  pos- 
sessions, get  down  off  that  counter  and  come  over  to  Reed 
Snumshaw's  and  I'll  play  you  anything  from  freeze-out  to 
fantan  till  you've  got  the  last  of  'em  —  if  you  win.' 

"  Aps  hopped  down  off  the  counter  like  it  was  a  hot  stove 
and  grinned  all  over  his  face.  '  I  always  believed  in  little 
men,'  he  says.  *  Let's  be  going.' 

"  It  was  a  private  and  exclusive  game  that  they  had  — 
in  the  back  room,  with  the  door  shut,  and  an  understanding 
that  it  was  to  be  kept  shut,  except  on  request.  There  was 
quite  a  few  hungry  wolves  around  outside  that  wanted  in, 
and  there  was  sounds  sort  of  like  snarling  and  indications 
of  teeth  before  the  understanding  was  arrived  at.  But  the 
two  little  men  made  themselves  perfectly  clear  on  the  point 
and  the  wolves  stayed  out  and  only  licked  their  chops  when 
the  door  opened  once  in  a  while  to  let  in  the  tray  and  let 
out  a  smell  of  eleven  thousand  dollars.  The  wrapper  was 
tore  off  the  first  deck  a  little  before  five  o'clock  that  after- 
noon, and  at  about  half-past  three  in  the  morning  as  the 
gray  dawn  was  a-breaking  Mr.  Griffith  ap  Morgan  ap 
Jones  was  done  broke. 

" '  I've  just  one  regret/  says  Aps,  a-heaving  a  sigh.  '  I 
don't  care  nothing  about  that  hardware  store  of  yours,  but 
I  certainly  was  and  am  stuck  on  the  pattern  of  that  shirt. 
And  it  sure  looked  like  I  was  a-going  to  get  to  wear  it,'  he 
says  with  another  sigh. 


174  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

" '  Not  to  me,  it  didn't.  Not  at  no  stage  of  the  game/ 
says  Simmy,  sort  of  absent. 

"  He  looked  at  the  order  on  the  express  company  for  the 
money  that  Aps  had  in  the  safe,  turning  it  over  and  over 
and  twisting  it  in  his  fingers  and  frowning  at  it.  He  picked 
up  another  paper,  which  was  what  Aps  had  signed,  turning 
over  all  royalties  in  the  mine  coming  to  him  to  S.  Broderick. 
He  looked  at  that  quite  a  spell. 

"  '  I  reckon  I'm  independent  rich,'  he  says.  '  I  reckon  — 
I  reckon  I  could  get  married  now  —  if  the  girl  was  willing.' 
"  Aps  laughed  mighty  good-natured  for  a  newly  busted 
man.  '  I  reckon  that's  so,'  he  says.  '  But  don't  it  prove 
that  I  was  right,  buddy?  You  never  would  have  got  it  if 
you  hadn't  been  a  sport.' 

"  Simmy  studied  on  that.  '  Do  you  think  I'm  a  sport  ? ' 
he  asks. 

"  Aps  said  he  did.  '  I  thought  you  was,  all  along,'  he 
says.  '  Little  men  like  you  and  me  always  is,  and  that's 
why  I  bantered  you.' 

"  Simmy  looked  him  cold  and  straight  in  the  eye.  '  You 
lunkhead ! '  he  says,  slow  and  impressive.  '  You  stiff-witted, 
thick-fingered,  fumbling  chunk  of  conceit!  You  blessed 
babe  in  the  wood !  Why,  I  never  took  the  half  of  a  chance 
with  you.  You're  a  pudding,  Mr.  Aps;  a  mark,  a  dead 
open-and-shut  cinch.  I  could  have  cleaned  you  out  the  first 
half  hour  if  I  had  wanted  to.  I've  been  amusing  myself 
seeing  you  try  to  play.  When  you  won  it  was  because  I 
let  you;  and  when  I  thought  you  had  won  long  enough  I 
played  cards.  You  gamble?  You  never  gambled  in  your 
life,  if  you  only  knew  it.  I  was  acquainted  with  the  man 
that  took  your  wad  away  from  you  just  before  you  come 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  175 

into  my  office  the  first  time,  and  that  man  don't  much  more 
than  know  the  face  cards.  Mr.  Aps,  you  may  know  coal, 
but  when  it  comes  to  putty  you  ain't  there.  You  take  my 
advice  and  quit  games  of  hazard  and  chance  and  get  you  a 
good  woman  to  see  that  you  stay  quit.' 

"  With  that  Simmy  picked  up  the  two  papers  and  tore 
them  into  little  bits  and  scattered  them  on  the  floor.  '  This 
here  game's  a  draw,'  he  says ;  and  then  he  smiled  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"Aps  made  out  to  shake,  and  then  sat  back  in  his  chair 
and  did  some  meditating.  After  a  little  he  straightened  up 
and  let  out  a  long  breath  like  he'd  been  pricked  with  a  pin 
in  his  self-esteem. 

"  *  Buddy,'  he  says,  *  I  ain't  a-going  to  insult  you  by  in- 
sisting on  you  keeping  your  winnings.  I  reckon  I'm  what 
you  say,  and  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  take  my  medicine  and 
your  advice  and  thank  you  kindly.'  He  laughed  and  shook 
Simmy's  hand  again.  Then  he  says :  '  I  won't  have  to  ask 
my  partner  to  give  me  a  job  in  the  mine,  that's  one  thing. 
I  was  just  a-thinking  about  bracing  her.' 

"  '  Her  ?  '  says  Simmy. 

" '  It's  a  her,'  says  Aps.  '  She  didn't  want  me  to  give  it 
away  while  she  was  staking  me,  but  now  that  the  claim's  sold 
it's  got  to  come  out.  Yes,  it's  a  lady  that's  been  a-putting 
up  for  me.  Her  name's  Miss  Lucia  McArdle,  and  she  keeps 
a  milliner  store  here  in  town.  Maybe  you  know  her.'  " 

The  old  bullwhacker  blew  into  the  reed  stem  of  his  corn- 
cob pipe  and  questingly  slapped  the  regions  of  his  pockets 
and  grunted  to  express  disappointment.  Upon  which  the 
stock  tender  threw  him  his  own  buckskin  tobacco  sack. 


176  THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND 

"  I  thought  you  said  this  girl  Lucia  was  set  against  tak- 
ing chances?"  the  stock  tender  observed. 

"  She  was,"  replied  the  old  bullwhacker  after  he  had  lit 
up.  "  She  said  she  was,  anyway.  Simmy  hunted  her  up 
the  first  thing  and  found  she  had  been  hunting  him  all  the 
night  before  and  was  just  about  crazy.  Then  Simmy  had 
to  tell  her  where  he  was  and  what  he  had  been  doing. 

" '  So  you  didn't  keep  what  you  had  won  ? '  she  says. 
'  I'm  glad  of  that,  Simmy/ 

" '  I  did  kind  of  intend  to  at  first/  Simmy  says,  '  but  I 
didn't  have  no  idea  that  you  was  gambling  right  along, 
after  all  what  you  said/ 

"  *  I  wasn't/  she  says.  '  How  can  you  say  so,  Simmy  ? 
It  was  a  business  investment ;  it  wasn't  like  you  paying  out 
money  on  a  claim  you  didn't  know  nothing  about.  Uncle 
Billy  didn't  know  nothing  about  coal  either,  but  this  Mr. 
Aps  did,  and  he  told  me  it  was  perfectly  safe.  And  he  was 
right,  and  I've  got  over  eleven  thousand  dollars  and  mebbe 
a  lot  of  royalties  just  by  advancing  seven  hundred  and  fifty- 
two  dollars  and  twenty-three  cents.  Don't  you  see  the  dif- 
ference ? ' 

"  '  I  see  one  thing,  girl,'  says  Simmy :  '  I've  got  to  marry  • 
you  right  away  to  keep  you  from  rash  speculating.  You're 
too  plumb  reckless  and  you  need  me  to  hold  you  steady  and 
keep  you  out  of  investments  that  holds  inducements  of  more 
than  a  safe  hundred  per  cent.  Me,  I  stick  to  the  hardware 
business/  he  says. 

"  He  looked  at  her  mighty  serious. 

" '  I  don't  know  though/  he  says,  studying.  '  They  say 
that  marriage  is  a  lottery.  Mebbe  I  hadn't  better ' 

"Then  that  long-legged  girl's  blue  eyes  begun  to  dance 


THE  BIRD  IN  THE  HAND  177 

and  she  put  her  arm  around  Simmy's  neck  and  her  cheek 
against  hisn. 

"  '  Aw,  Simmy ! '  she  says.    '  Be  a  sport  and  take  a  chance 
—  to  please  me.' " 


V 
THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

*  I  ''HERE  was  company  for  dinner  at  the  Box  Elder  stage 
•*•  station.  Besides  the  old  bullwhacker,  who  strayed 
in  from  his  homestead  every  so  often  and  sometimes  oftener, 
there  were  two  second-season  young  things  from  the  Circle 
Bar  outfit  who  had  rounded  up  the  horses  that  they  had 
been  sent  after  much  sooner  than  they  or  the  foreman  could 
have  expected  and  were  in  no  feverish  haste  to  get  back  to 
the  ranch  and  some  disagreeable  form  of  toil.  The  stock 
tender  had  baked  a  large  pan  of  sliced  bacon,  potatoes  and 
onions  in  peppered  and  salted  layers,  with  a  dredging  of 
flour  between  the  strata ;  he  had  spread  himself  on  baking- 
powder  biscuit  and  the  sweets  included  sorghum  molasses, 
stewed  dried  raspberries  and  prunes.  "  'Most  anybody  but 
a  Poland  China,  a  Chester  White,  a  Berkshire  or  a  common 
piney-woods  razorback  would  have  considered  that 
a-plenty,"  the  stock  tender  observed. 

"  I  didn't  say  it  wasn't,  did  I  ? "  the  old  bullwhacker 
protested.  "  I  wasn't  hinting.  I  was  just  wondering  what 
there  was  in  it.  No  harm  in  that,  is  there?  What  makes 
you  so  dog-gone  sensitive,  Hank  ?  " 

Here  the  younger  of  the  Circle  Bar  youths  interrupted 
in  his  turn. 

"  She  calls  me  her  baby,"  he  announced  vaingloriously. 

178 


"  That's  right.  I  wisht  I  had  one  of  her  letters  here.  She 
writes  a  daisy  letter." 

But  the  stock  tender  was  still  smarting  under  what  he 
thought  was  a  reflection  on  his  hospitality  and  was  not  to 
be  diverted. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  in  that  can,"  he  said  severely, 
addressing  the  old  bullwhacker.  "  It  might  be  tomatters 
and  it  might  be  peaches  or  patty  deform  sparrergrass. 
There's  a  chance  of  it  being  axle  grease.  It  was  there  up 
on  that  shelf  when  I  come  to  the  station  —  just  the  way  it 
is,  with  the  label  tore  off  —  so  I  don't  know  whether  it's 
oxtail  soup  or  otto  of  roses.  If  I  opened  it  up  I'd  probably 
be  disappointed,  and  I've  had  so  many  disappointments  in 
life  that  I  don't  want  to  risk  it.  I  figured  that  there  was 
chuck  enough  without  that  to  satisfy  a  gentleman  that  was 
a  gentleman,  but " 

"  There  was  one  of  these  here  English  lords  wanted  to 
marry  her  when  the  show  was  in  Omaha,"  the  younger 
puncher  broke  in  bravely,  trying  to  fix  the  old  bullwhacker 
with  a  bright  eye.  "  But  not  on  your  tintype !  '  I  wouldn't 
wish  any,'  says  she.  '  Kind  hearts  is  more  than  cornets,' 
says  she,  '  and  I  ain't  got  the  right  kind  of  a  lip  for  a 
mouth-piece  nohow.  Because  my  name  is  Birdie  don't 
signify  that  you  can  put  me  in  no  gilded  cage.  You  hear  me 
warble?'  That's  what  she  told  him.  Sure!  She  could 
have  married  rich  more  times  than  I've  got  fingers  and  toes. 
I  wisht  I  had  the  picture  of  her  that  she  give  me.  She 
wrote  on  it :  '  From  Birdie  to  Her  Baby.'  Oh,  I'm  solid !  " 

"  I  reckon  you  are  —  all  above  the  roof  of  your  mouth," 
said  his  companion. 

"  Birdie's  baby  "  made  an  angry  rejoinder  and  there  might 


180       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

have  been  trouble  but  for  the  diplomatic  intervention  of 
the  old  bullwhacker,  who  opined  that  the  heads  of  the 
disputants  were  equally  soft,  and  turned  the  conversation 
to  prunes.  At  the  end  of  the  repast  the  elder  of  the  boys 
drew  the  short  straw  and  remained  to  wash  the  dishes, 
while  the  rest  sought  the  shade  at  the  back  of  the  barn. 
There  the  stock  tender,  who  had  recovered  his  good  humor, 
expressed  unbounded  admiration  and  some  envy  of  the  Cir- 
cle Bar  infant's  audacity  and  powers  of  fascination. 

"  It  gets  me ! "  he  owned.  "  I  s'pose  it's  knowing  that 
you've  got  that  handsome  face  and  them  winning  ways 
that  gives  you  the  nerve  to  brace  a  lady  like  Birdie.  Didn't 
even  have  a  letter  of  introduction  to  her,  did  you  ?  Nothing 

but  your  month's  wages  and Well,  well!  Listen  to 

that,  Sam,  will  you?  Why  here's  me  and  Sam  has  been 
a-worshiping  Birdie  from  afar  for  —  le*  me  see;  it  must  be 
clost  on  to  thirty  years,  ain't  it,  Sam?" 

"  Clost  on,"  agreed  the  old  bullwhacker.  "  She  was  quite 
a  kid  them  days;  couldn't  have  been  much  more'n  twenty- 
five,  I  reckon.  Yes,  we  was  too  bashful  —  Hank  and  me  — 
even  to  ask  her  what  she'd  drink.  It  takes  these  good- 
looking  young  and  impetuous  cusses  like  Bud  here  —  or. 
Wesley  Clow.  Wes  was  a  considerable  gone  on  Birdie  in 
his  day.  Want  me  to  tell  you  about  it,  Bud  ?  " 

"  You're  a  couple  of  old  liars,  the  both  of  you,"  said  Bud 
with  a  red  face.  "  I  don't  care.  Tell  all  you  want." 

The  old  bullwhacker  shifted  his  chair  back  a  little  more 
into  the  shade,  and  after  settling  himself  comfortably  and 
coughing  ceremoniously  in  the  approved  afterdinner  fashion 
proceeded  to  tell  all  about  it. 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       181 

Wesley  wasn't  no  such  a  superb  speciment  of  robust 
young  manhood  as  what  you  are,  I'm  bound  to  admit, 
Buddy.  He  hadn't  got  your  high  polish  nor  your  easy 
gracefulness  nor  your  bearskin  chaps  nor  nothing ;  not  even 
the  neck  shave  you're  sporting.  The  first  time  I  seen 
Wesley  there  was  a  fluff  all  over  his  cheeks  that  made  a  man 
want  to  hold  a  match  to  and  touch  it  off,  and  his  hair  had 
been  cut  with  a  cold  chisel  on  the  edge  of  the  chopping 
block.  He  had  heard  tell  of  barbers,  but  that  was  as  far  as 
he'd  ever  got.  He  was  a  considerable  long-legged  and 
knobby- jointed,  and  the  butternut  pants  and  hickory  shirt 
that  he  wore  looked  as  if  he'd  made  them  himself  from 
memory  and  guessed  short  at  the  arms  and  legs.  He  give 
you  the  impression  that  he  was  a-wondering  why  things 
was  the  way  they  was  and  didn't  it  beat  the  Dutch.  We 
was  camped  over  the  other  side  of  White  River  waiting  for 
low  water  with  a  bunch  of  cows  when  he  came  a-wabbling 
and  a-weaving  into  our  visions.  Them  days  I  wasn't  in 
the  freighting  profession.  I  was  just  a  common  ord'nary 
cowpunch  —  as  far's  I  could  be  a  common  and  ord'nary 
anything. 

Well,  as  I  was  a-saying.  Wes  came  a-weaving  into  camp 
afoot.  And  naturally  picking  me  for  the  boss  of  the  outfit 
he  told  me  howdy.  I  asked  him  where  his  horse  was  and 
he  says  "  buzzards."  Then  I  asked  him  which-a-way  he 
was  headed. 

"If  you'll  tell  me  which-a-way  the  vittles  is  I  reckon  I 
can  show  you,"  says  he;  and  with  that  his  knees  wabbled 
worse  than  ever  and  he  sat  down  right  sudden. 

Well  we  got  his  backbone  away  from  the  skin  in  front  of 
him  by  interposing  and  wedging  about  half  a  kettle  of 


182       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

beans  and  various  other  foodstuffs  in  between  and  after  a 
while  he  felt  well  enough  to  tell  his  sad  story.  Seemed  like 
he  come  from  some  place  in  Missouri  where  the  land  was  a 
considerable  upended  and  some  of  the  citizens  could  read 
print.  One  of  them  literary  characters,  who  owned  clost 
on  to  ten  head  of  cattle,  besides  a  team  of  mules  and  a 
wagon,  found  a  piece  of  newspaper  that  told  about  the 
Belle  Fourche  country  where  a  man  could  get  a  hundred 
and  sixty  acres  all  in  one  place,  covered  with  grass  and  so 
flat  that  a  cow  could  climb  it  'most  anywheres  and  turn 
round  in  a  wide  circle  without  falling  off.  The  paper  made 
it  out  better  than  that,  but  this  here  mountain  cattle  king 
had  made  his  success  in  life  by  allowing  for  breakage  and 
the  disposition  of  a  hen  in  figuring  how  many  chickens  he'd 
get  from  a  setting  of  eggs.  Anyway  he  started  for  the 
Belle  Fourche  and  took  Wes  along  with  him,  but  when  he 
struck  the  Nebraska  line  he  found  a  hundred  and  sixty  that 
was  flat  as  a  flatiron  all  over.  So  he  stayed  there,  and  Wes 
—  being  that  kind  —  went  on. 

"  It  was  three  days  ago  my  horse  up  and  died  on  me," 
said  Wes.  "  The  old  fool  must  have  tried  to  graze  offn  a , 
rattlesnake,  which  is  certainly  the  worstest  kind  of  pastur- 
age. Anyway  the  snake  bit  him  on  the  nose  and  he  swelled 
up  and  went  hence.  I  toted  the  saddle  quite  a  ways,  but  it 
got  too  heavy  for  me  and  I  finally  drapped  it.  Yesterday 
about  noon,  when  I  was  plumb  tuckered  out  and  wondering 
where  all  the  folks  lived  round  this  section,  I  heard  a  horse 
a-coming  along  at  a  pretty  good  clip  behind  me  and  when  I 
looked  I  seen  there  was  a  man  on  him.  I  waited  for  him 
just  by  a  little  coulee  that  was  growed  over  with  a  right 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       183 

smart  of  sagebrush  and  greasewood,  and  in  a  minute  or 
two  he  pulled  up  a  likely  looking  roan  beside  me  and  asked 
me  if  I  was  traveling  or  going  somewheres  and  what  my 
name  was  and  where  did  I  come  from. 

"  I  didn't  like  the  way  one  of  his  eyes  follered  a  twist  in 
his  nose,  but  I  told  him  my  name  was  Wesley  Clow  and 
that  I  come  from  near  Taneyville  and  was  a-going  to  the 
Belle  Fourche. 

" '  Why,  you  must  be  Old  Man  Clow's  boy ! '  says  he. 
'  The  offspring  of  my  dear  old  friend.  Who'd  have  thought 
of  seeing  you  out  here?  Shake,  Wesley!  Put  her  there, 
son!  Well,  well!  And  how's  all  the  folks  round  Taney- 
ville?' 

"  '  You  knowed  my  pappy  then  ?  '  I  says. 

"  '  Knowed  him ! '  says  he.  He  looked  over  his  shoulder 
and  I  looked  where  he  was  a-looking  and  seen  a  little  dust 
rising  away  back  yander  on  the  trail. 

" '  Because  if  you  was  a  friend  of  pappy's  and  you've 
got  any  vittles  in  that  roll '  I  says. 

"  He  hopped  offn  his  horse  right  sudden  and  begun  to 
loosen  his  cinches.  '  I  hain't  got  no  grub,'  he  says,  *  but 
here's  what  I'll  do;  Can  you  ride  bareback?  Well,  you 
just  take  this  here  horse  of  mine  for  a  present  and  ride 
him.  That's  all  right;  I  owe  your  dear  kind  old  pappy  a 
heap  more'n  that  —  a  heap !  You're  welcome  as  the  flowers 
in  May.  Take  him  and  ride  him  like  hell  straight  along  the 
trail  west  about  twenty  miles  and  you'll  make  a  good  place 
to  stay  overnight.  Good  bed  and  elegant  grub.  Tell  'em 
I  sent  you  and  that  you're  a  friend  of  mine  and  they'll  treat 
you  like  a  prince  and  potentate.  Only  you've  got  to  make 
time  or  you'll  get  catched  in  the  dark.  I'm  going  to  wait 


184      THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

here  until  some  of  my  men  come  along  with  a  bunch  of  my 
horses.  Like  as  not  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning.  Now  let's 
see  how  Old  Man  Clow's  boy  can  ride.' 

"  He  talked  right  tonguey,  and  all  the  while  he  was 
taking  off  his  saddle,  which  had  a  blanket  roll  and  a  good 
rope  and  a  carbine  tied  to  it,  and  by  the  time  he  stopped 
talking  he  had  me  hoisted  on  the  roan  and  had  started  us 
off  with  a  slap.  I  didn't  have  time  to  edge  in  a  word. 

"  Well,  I  went.  I  couldn't  do  no  other  way.  But  I 
looked  back  once  and  seen  him  ducking  down  into  the  coulee 
and  it  seemed  like  he  was  moving  quick.  That  roan  was 
some  considerable  and  he  felt  so  good  under  me  that  I  didn't 
do  much  thinking  for  the  first  mile  or  two.  Then  I  sort  of 
wondered. 

"If  that  stranger  with  the  twisted  nose  owed  my  pappy 
so  much  as  a  dollar  and  got  out  of  Taney  County  alive 
without  paying  it  he  was  some  considerable  too. 

"  Yet  if  such  was  so  and  my  old  man  had  forgot  himself 
and  done  a  kind  action  there  didn't  seem  to  be  no  good 
reason  why  I  shouldn't  get  the  good  of  it.  Then  I  kind  of 
wondered  about  the  blanket  roll  and  why  there  wasn't  no 
vittles  in  it  to  go  with  the  fry-pan  handle  that  I  seen  stick- 
ing out,  and  that  made  me  think  of  the  vittles  that  was 
a-waiting  for  me  twenty  miles  ahead  on  the  trail  —  and  the 
good  bed.  I  thumped  a  heel  into  Roaney's  side  and  made 
time. 

"  After  a  while  I  slacked  up  and  then  pretty  soon  I 
chanced  for  to  look  back  and  I  seen  dust  a-coming  and 
made  out  men  a-horseback  in  it. 

"  They  was  a-coming  lively  too  —  gaining  on  me  —  and  I 
couldn't  have  that.  I'd  show  'em  how  Old  Man  Clow's 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       185 

boy  could  ride.  I  done  that.  When  I  next  looked  back 
there  wasn't  no  dust  in  sight,  so  I  jogged  a  piece  and  I 
was  still  going  that-a-way  when  Roaney  stumbled  and 
throwed  me  over  his  head.  When  I  got  up  I  seen  that  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  feed  round  not  less'n  two  rods 
off  from  me  and  I  was  so  interested  trying  to  get  closer 
so's  I  could  jump  and  grab  the  bridle  rein  that  it  was  quite 
a  surprise  when  somebody  hollered  to  me  to  throw  up  my 
hands. 

"  Well,  sir,  gentlemen,  there  was  five  in  the  party,  and  all 
of  the  guns  was  a-pointing  my  way,  so  I  done  what  they 
wished;  and  they  throwed  a  rope  on  me  and  wound  it 
round  and  round,  though  I  offered  to  give  them  the  twelve 
dollars  I  had  on  me  without  no  trouble  if  they'd  give  me 
my  horse  and  turn  me  loose.  They  was  so  busy  talking 
about  some  fool  cottonwood  tree  that  one  of  them  knowed 
about  a  mile  or  so  from  where  we  was  that  they  didn't  pay 
no  attention  to  what  I  was  saying.  But  finally  one  of  them 
asked  me  where  I  got  the  roan  and  I  told  him.  Another  — 
the  one  that  knowed  where  the  tree  was  —  allowed  that  I 
was  lying  and  if  I  wasn't  I  was  too  big  a  fool  to  be  let  live. 
I  don't  know  how  he  figured  that  I  was  a  fool.  I  told  him 
so  and  I  told  him  I  could  whip  him  and  some  more  things. 
Then  another  fellow  spoke  up  and  he  allowed  that  if  they 
didn't  lose  no  time  getting  back  to  the  coulee  they  might 
get  the  this-that-and-t'other  yet  —  if  he  hadn't  rustled  an- 
other horse.  They  certainly  talked  mighty  curious.  Any- 
way they  settled  it  by  tying  my  legs  and  leaving  me  a-laying 
there  on  the  ground,  and  I  ain't  telling  no  lie  when  I  say 
that  the  moon  was  away  up  and  the  coyotes  was  howling 
mighty  close  before  one  of  them  come  back  and  untied  me. 


186       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

"  *  We  got  your  friend,'  he  says  mighty  cheerful.  '  I 
thought  I'd  come  and  get  that  rope  of  mine.  It's  a  good 
one  and  I'd  hate  to  lose  it.' 

" '  You  didn't  bring  my  horse  back/  I  says ;  and  he 
laughed  like  it  was  a  good  joke.  I  was  so  mad  I'd  a  notion 
not  to  take  the  drink  he  offered  me  and  I  wouldn't  ask  him 
no  more  questions.  He  told  me  where  your  camp  was,  but 
I  didn't  ask  him  that.  Mighty  curious  doings!  I  can't 
make  head,  tail  nor  middle  of  them." 

That  was  Wes'  account  of  it  about  the  way  he  told  it. 
You  can  see  what  kind  of  a  boy  he  was  —  simple-minded 
and  trusting.  I  took  quite  a  shine  to  him  —  remembering 
bygone  days  forever  fled,  when  I  too  was  simple-minded  and 
trusting,  and  got  the  dirty  end  of  it  every  time.  "  Here's  a 
boy  what  needs  the  eagle  eye  of  observation  on  his  doings 
and  the  whispering  voice  of  wisdom  and  the  finger  and 
thumb  of  authority  at  his  ear,"  I  says  to  myself.  "  What 
Wes  ought  to  have  ain't  not  only  the  guiding  hand  of  expe- 
rience on  the  scruff  of  his  neck,  but  the  elevating  influence 
of  a  noble  example.  Associations  and  contacts  with  a  man 
like  me  would  be  the  making  of  Wes,"  says  I  to  myself  — 
and  it  would  be  aheap  of  sport  to  have  him  round. 

With  them  thoughts  I  went  to  Dan  Scott,  who  was  mis- 
managing the  TAN  Ranch  about  that  time,  and  I  seen  to 
it  that  he  offered  Wes  a  job  with  us ;  and  then  I  took  up 
the  duty  of  educating  the  boy  with  the  whole-souled  and 
willing  help  of  every  kind-hearted  waddy  on  the  ranch. 
There  was  some  things  that  Wes  knowed  already  —  like 
straight-up,  and  coming  in  out  of  the  rain,  and  beans  when 
the  bag  was  open,  and  pounding  sand  in  a  rat  hole  if  the 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       187 

directions  was  on  the  hammer  handle ;  but  in  other  respects 
there  was  much  to  be  wished  for.  The  cookstove  was  a 
real  curiosity  to  him,  and  it  was  quite  a  while  before  he 
could  get  over  the  idea  of  water  running  out  of  a  faucet  by 
just  turning  that  little  contraption  at  the  top,  and  he  turned 
pale  when  he  first  seen  an  egg  beater  operating.  Most  of  us 
up-to-date  fellows  had  got  beyond  and  apast  regarding  alarm 
clocks  and  coal-oil  lamps  as  startling  novelties,  but  where 
Wes  was  raised  they  hadn't  got  discontented  with  roosters 
and  the  good  old  reliable  nonexplosive  tallow  dip  if  fire- 
light wasn't  good  enough  for  you.  But  I'm  bound  to  say 
that  the  boy  learned.  In  a  week  or  so  it  begun  to  look  as  if 
I'd  run  out  of  things  to  explain  to  him  and  give  him  wise 
counselings  about  —  and  then  come  a  morning  call  from 
Mary  Ann. 

It's  kind  of  curious,  but  when  I  was  a-looking  at  that  can 
you're  a-holding  out  on  your  friends  Mary  Ann  come  right 
into  my  head.  Not  but  what  in  some  respects  sometimes 
women  is  a  heap  like  canned  goods,  being  as  you  can  tell  by 
looking  at  a  can  in  a  general  way  what  it  is.  It  ain't  but 
seldom  anywheres  equal  to  the  picture  on  the  label ;  but 
you  can  say,  "  This  here's  peaches,"  or  "  This  here's  plain 
pork  and  beans,"  as  the  label  may  be;  but  Mary  Ann  kind 
of  seemed  to  have  her  label  tore  off. 

Most  all  you  seen  of  her  was  a  sunbonnet  and  an  old 
no-shape  calico  dress  —  and  only  the  upper  half  of  the  dress 
account  of  a  long  no-color  riding  skirt.  She  was  riding  a 
big  rangy  sorrel  with  collar  marks  on  his  shoulders,  and 
when  I  tell  you  that  the  boys  looked  twice  at  the  horse  for 
once  they  looked  at  her  you  can  sort  of  figure  that  she 
wasn't  no  dream  of  beauty.  Nor  yet  she  wasn't  no  sight  to 


188       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

make  a  man  shudder.  Back  in  under  her  sunbonnet  there 
was  a  young  girl's  face  that  wasn't  none  too  rosy  nor  not 
too  well  filled  out;  she  had  kind  of  dark  eyes  and  was 
dark  complected  and  her  mouth  didn't  look  as  if  it  had 
a  habit  of  smiling,  though  there  wasn't  no  sour  pucker 
to  it  like  some.  That  was  about  all  you  could  say.  When 
she  spoke  it  didn't  make  you  think  of  sweet  silver  bells 
a-chiming  nor  little  birds  a-caroling  in  the  bosky  glade  nor 
laughing  tinkling  brooks  nor  none  of  them  things.  You 
just  heard  her  speaking  and  paid  more  or  less  attention  to 
what  she  was  saying,  like  Dan  Scott  done. 

It  was  about  her  cow  that  had  strayed  off  with  its  calf 
two  days  ago  and  couldn't  be  found,  hide  nor  hair,  having 
probably  got  in  with  a  bunch  of  the  T  A  N  cattle ;  and  they 
needed  the  milk  and  hadn't  we  seen  nothing  of  her  —  a 
black-and-white  cow  with  pa's  brand  and  only  one  horn  ? 

"  Why  didn't  your  pa  come  here  to  ask  himself  ?  "  says 
Dan,  looking  up  from  the  mower  we  was  tinkering  at. 
"  Does  he  think  we  run  his  cow  off  ?  " 

"  You'd  be  in  mighty  big  business  if  you  had,"  says  Mary 
Ann.  "  Pa  allowed  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  asking  you 
—  and  I  reckon  he  was  right." 

She  didn't  snap  it  out;  just  stated  it  as  a  fact,  calm  and 
sober,  and  was  turning  her  horse  to  ride  off  when  Dan 
straightened  to  his  feet  and  took  off  his  hat  with  a  flourish. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  says.  "  I  don't  want  you  nor  your 
esteemed  pa  to  think  for  a  holy  fraction  of  a  second  that  we 
ain't  anxious  to  be  neighborly  and  obliging.  We  ain't  took 
the  liberty  of  running  off  your  respected  cow,  not  as  far  as 
I  know,  and  we  ain't  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her,  but  I'll 
sure  institute  the  strictest  kind  of  inquiries  and  perse- 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       189 

cute  the  rigidest  search  for  her  with  the  greatest  of  ani- 
mosity." 

He  looked  round  at  us,  grinning  like  a  coyote,  and  his 
eye  fell  on  Wes,  who  had  been  standing  with  his  bridle  over 
his  arm  acquiring  a  heap  of  information  about  mowing 
machines  that  the  inventor  never  guessed  of.  "  Mr.  Clow," 
says  Dan,  "  will  you  favor  me  by  climbing  on  your  horse 
and  helping  the  young  lady  find  her  cow  ?  " 

Dan  was  certainly  a  humorous  joker  and  could  think  up 
the  comicalest  things.  The  only  one  who  kept  a  straight 
face  and  a  shut  mouth  at  that  was  Wes  himself.  As  for 
Mary  Ann,  she  hadn't  waited  and  was  quite  a  piece  off  al- 
ready. The  funny  thing  was  that  Wes  took  Dan  in  dead 
earnest  and  before  any  of  us  realized  what  he  was  doing 
or  going  to  do  he'd  jumped  into  the  saddle  and  was  a-pelting 
off  after  Mary  Ann.  Dan  tried  to  call  him  back,  but  he 
choked  up  with  laughing  and  his  voice  failed. 

In  about  a  couple  of  miles  Wes  nearly  catched  up  with 
her  and  she  pulled  up  and  wheeled  her  horse  round. 

"  You  just  quit  trailing  me  and  get  right  back,"  she  says, 
and  Wes  judged  she  meant  prezactly  and  excisely  what  she 
said.  He  was  surprised  some  too. 

"  I'm  a-going  to  get  your  cow  for  you,  ma'am,"  he  says. 

"  You'll  raise  hell  a-getting  my  cow  for  me,"  she  says. 
"  You  get  right  back." 

"  I'm  right  sorry,  ma'am,"  says  Wes,  "  but  I've  got  or- 
ders from  the  boss  and  I  reckon  I've  got  to  follow  them." 

"  I  ain't  got  no  objections  as  long  as  you  don't  follow 
me,"  says  Mary  Ann,  and  she  kicked  her  sorrel  in  the  ribs 
and  rode  on  in  about  a  bee  line  for  lower  Beaver,  Wes 
trailing  after  her  about  ten  rods  behind.  They  rode  that- 


190      THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

a-way  until  they  come  to  Beaver,  and  Mary  Ann  turned  up 
creek. 

*'  She  ain't  up  that-a-way,"  Wes  hollers,  and  swung  down 
into  the  bottom  to'rds  the  old  Bateman  crossing.  Mary 
Ann  didn't  pay  no  attention  to  him  though  —  not  for  a 
minute  or  two.  Then  she  stopped  and  looked  back.  Wes 
was  jogging  along  and  not  looking  back  and  I  reckon  she 
got  kind  of  curious.  Anyway  she  turned  round  and  fol- 
lowed him.  Pretty  soon  he  rode  up  a  gulch  and  she  couldn't 
see  him,  so  she  hurried  along,  and  by  the  time  she'd  got 
to  where  he'd  disappeared  she  seen  him  coming  back  —  and 
waited. 

"  She  ain't  with  that  bunch,"  says  Wes,  as  if  they'd  been 
talking  right  along.  "If  she's  the  black-and-white  cow  I 
seen  yesterday  she  must  be  farther  along  down.  They'd 
drift  with  the  wind." 

He  rode  on  down  the  creek  bottom  and  Mary  Ann  fol- 
lowed along.  After  a  while  she  edged  up. 

Once  or  twice  he  rode  up  some  gulch  or  got  up  onto  the 
table  and  looked  round,  and  when  he  come  back  to  the 
bottom  Mary  Ann  was  a-waiting.  And  she  edged  up  every 
time  a  little  more. 

"  That  ain't  no  way  for  a  lady  to  talk,"  says  Wes,  kind 
of  to  himself. 

"  I  didn't  say  nothing,"  says  Mary  Ann,  and  she  flicked 
the  sorrel  on  the  neck  with  the  end  of  the  rein  and  edged 
up  alongside.  "  I  didn't  say  nothing,"  she  says  again. 

"  Away  back  there,"  says  Wes :  "  '  Raise  hell  a-getting 
my  cow  for  me.'  " 

"  Oh !  "  says  Mary  Ann.  "  I  didn't  go  for  to  say  that," 
she  says.  "  It  kind  of  slipped  out.  It's  a  great  byword  with 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       191 

pa.  He  says  '  You'll  raise  hell  this '  and  '  You'll  raise  hell 
that '  all  the  time.  He  told  me  '  You'll  raise  hell  getting 
them  TAN  thieves  to  tell  you  anything  about  that  there 
cow.' " 

Wes  spurred  up  the  bank,  a  place  where  it  kind  of  sloped, 
and  looked  round  and  then  slid  down  again. 

"  There  ain't  no  more  breaks  for  a  right  smart,"  he  says. 
"  I  reckon  we'll  run  on  her  this  side  of  the  crossing  though. 
You  drap  behind,  please,  ma'am ;  the  trail  ain't  wide  enough 
for  two." 

"  It  slipped  out,"  says  Mary  Ann.  "  What  I  said  back 
there,  I  mean." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  says  Wes. 

A  half  a  mile  on  the  trail  widened  out  and  Mary  Ann 
edged  up  again. 

"  When  you've  heard  a  byword  like  that  right  along  all 
your  life  and  you  ain't  thinking  of  what  you're  saying  —  it 
kind  of  —  slips  out." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  says  Wes. 

"  Can't  you  say  nothing  but  '  Yes,  ma'am'  ?  " 

Wes  studied  on  that  for  a  while ;  then  he  says,  "  Is  your 
pa's  brand  7  U  7  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  says  Mary  Ann. 

"  Because  I  seem  to  recollect  that  was  the  brand  on  the 
black-and-white  cow  I  seen  yesterday  hereabout,  and  there's 
a  bunch  feeding  up  that  there  break  and  —  yes,  there  she  is, 
sure  'nough ! " 

And  sure  enough  there  the  cow  was  and  the  calf  with  her, 
and  Wes  didn't  lose  no  time  cutting  her  out  and  heading  her 
back.  Mary  Ann  told  him  that  he  didn't  need  to  trouble 
no  more,  but  he  just  nodded  the  sober  way  he  had  and  went 


192      THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

on  driving  her.  They  had  to  go  slow  because  the  cow 
wasn't  noways  speedy,  but  they'd  nearly  got  back  to  where 
they  started  from  on  Beaver  before  Wes  opened  his  head. 

"What  made  your  pa  think  so?"  he  asks  her. 

"  Think  what  ?  "  says  Mary  Ann. 

"That  the  T  A  N  — er  — men  wouldn't  tell  you  noth- 
ing?" 

"  Oh !  "  says  Mary  Ann.  "  Well,  because  here  we  come 
on  that  poor  defenseless  outfit  and  hogged  a  whole  hundred 
and  sixty  acres  of  their  range  that  they  needed  to  keep  their 
cattle  from  starving  to  death.  Not  to  mention  the  spring. 
And  all  they'd  got  in  the  wide  wide  world  was  about  a 
hundred  and  sixty  miles  square  and  all  of  Beaver  and  part 
of  Horsehead  and  Witch  Creek.  They  naturally  would  feel 
a  mite  hostile,  wouldn't  they  ?  " 

W'es  nodded. 

"Well,  wouldn't  they?    You're  one  of  them." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  says  Wes,  and  circled  out  to  haze  the  calf 
along. 

Finally  they  come  to  a  fork  in  the  trail  to  the  T  A  N 
and  Mary  Ann  broke  about  half  an  hour's  silence. 

"  I  won't  have  no  more  trouble  now,"  she  says.  "  We 
live  just  over  that  there  ridge.  You  don't  need  to  go  out  of 
your  way  no  more." 

"  I  reckon  that's  so,"  says  Wes. 

"  I'm  sure  obliged  to  you  for  your  kindness,"  says  she. 

"  It  ain't  my  kindness ;  it's  Mr.  Scott's,"  says  Wes.  "  I 
reckon  your  pa'd  better  keep  that  cow  fenced  in  if  he  doesn't 
want  her  to  stray." 

"  My  name's  Miss  Mary  Ann  Bodley,"  she  says. 

Wes  nodded  and  looked  at  the  cow. 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       193 

"  I  wonder "  he  says. 

"  What  ? "  asks  Mary  Ann,  and  gave  him  his  first  smile. 

"  I  wonder  how  come  she  lost  that  horn." 

"  Pa  knocked  it  off  with  the  milking  stool,"  says  Mary 
Ann. 

"  I  never  could  understand  how  he  could  bring  himself  to 
do  such  a  thing  —  until  this  minute." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  says  Wes.  "  I  reckon  I'll  be  moving  on." 
And  he  moved  on. 

"  Did  you  find  the  young  lady's  cow  ?  "  asked  Dan  Scott 
when  he  got  back. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  done  found  her,"  says  Wes.  "  What  would 
you  like  for  me  to  do  next?" 

"  Why,"  says  Dan  in  his  smooth  way,  "  if  you'd  just  as 
soon  I'd  like  to  have  you  go  and  knock  your  head  against 
the  snubbing  post  in  the  corral  until  I  tell  you  to  stop.  I've 
got  my  suspicions  that  post  ain't  as  firm  set  as  it  ought  to 
be  to  stand  the  strain  it's  going  to  have  when  we  brand  them 
horses  to-morrow,  and  I'd  like  to  make  sure.  It  won't  hurt 
your  head,  I  judge,  if  it's  thick  enough  to  let  you  go  traips- 
ing off  the  best  part  of  a  day  hunting  a  loblollied,  tiddley- 
winked,  goodness-gracioused  granger's  cows  for  him.  Don't 
you  think  they  give  us  cowmen  trouble  enough?  No,  you 
don't  think!  You  naturally  couldn't.  If  you  didn't  have 
no  legs  you  couldn't  walk,  and  if  you  had  the  misfortune  to 
be  born  without  arms  it  wouldn't  be  reasonable  to  blame 
you  for  not  scratching  yourself.  I  was  wrong  to  chide  you, 
Mr.  Clow.  Of  course  you  didn't  think." 

"  You  told  me  to  help  her  find  her  cow,"  says  Wes. 

"  Certainly,"  says  Dan,  "  and  I  don't  notice  you  jumping 


194.       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

particular  alacritous  to  test  that  snubbing  post  like  I  asked 
you.  Well,  I'll  try  to  overlook  it  this  time,  but  the  next 
time  I  tell  you  to  round  up  any  7  U  7  stock  and  return 
same  to  owner  with  compliments  of  the  TAN  don't  do  it. 
Sabe?" 

"  No  ?  "  says  Wes  with  his  wondering  look. 

"  No,"  says  Dan.  "  Just  rope  and  tie  me  and  keep  me 
tied  until  you  can  get  me  took  to  the  Yankton  Asylum.  I'll 
be  crazy,  and  there  ain't  no  telling  what  I'd  do  if  I  was  let 
to  run  loose." 

But  that  wasn't  nothing  to  what  the  boys  had  got  to  say 
in  the  bunk  house  that  evening.  I  said  a  few  things  myself 
that  was  about  as  mirth-provoking  and  as  side  splitting  as 
anything  you  ever  heard,  if  I  could  recollect  to  tell  you. 
But  Wes  took  it  all  like  it  was  remarks  about  the  weather, 
until  Gid  Spencer  said  something  concerning  Mary  Ann  that 
was  considerable  bordering  on  the  nature  of  what  you  might 
call  a  raw  crack. 

Wes  looked  at  him,  and  the  way  he  looked  everybody 
whooped,   it   was   so   dog-gone   serious   and   disapproving. 
Gid  laughed  more'n  anybody,  but  Wes  kept  on  a-looking  the 
same  way  without  batting  an  eye,  until  Gid  slowed  down  to. 
a  giggle. 

"Well?"  says  Gid  at  last. 

"  That  ain't  no  way  for  a  gentleman  to  talk,"  says  Wes, 
mighty  slow  and  solemn,  and  everybody  whooped  again,  Gid 
included,  though  he  got  a  mite  red  in  the  face. 

But  Wes  kept  right  on  a-looking  at  him. 

"  You  want  to  take  it  up  ?  "  says  Gid,  winking  at  us. 

"  You  beared  what  I  said,"  says  Wes. 

"  That  settles  it,"  says  Gid.    "  When  reflections  like  that 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       195 

is  cast  on  my  character  I  get  a  craving  for  blood  that 
nothing  but  blood  will  satisfy  and  appease.  We'll  shoot 
it  out." 

"  Shoot  it  out  ?  "  says  Wes. 

Johnny  Wells  explained  it  to  him. 

"  He  means  that  you  shoot  at  him  with  a  gun  and  he 
shoots  at  you  with  a  gun  both  as  near  simultaneous  as  you 
can  and  a  mite  previous  —  if  possible.  This  here  is  what  we 
call  a  gun,  Wes."  He  took  down  his  own  from  his  belt 
hanging  on  the  wall  and  broke  it  and  shook  out  the  car- 
tridges on  the  table.  "  Them's  got  powder  into  'em  and  you 
see  this  is  lead  a-sticking  out  at  the  end.  Notice  on  the 
back  end  there's  a  little  round  do-funny.  That's  got  stuff 
inside  kind  of  like  what's  on  the  end  of  a  match.  We 
showed  you  about  matches  last  week  —  remember  ?  " 

Wes  nodded. 

"  Well,  now  we  stick  these  here  cartridges  into  these  here 
holes.  I'll  take  'em  out  again,  but  we'll  play  they're  all  in. 
Now  you  wrap  your  finger  round  this  jigger  and  pull  it. 
See  what  that  does?  Makes  this  here  go  round,  and  at  the 
same  time  it  plunks  this  dingus  down  on  the  cartridge 
plumb  square  on  the  little  round  do- funny  —  like  striking  a 
match.  That  sets  fire  to  the  powder,  which  pushes  the 
lead  right  violent  out  through  this  long  tube  —  sabe? 

"  And  that's  what  we  call  shooting.  Anything  what  the 
lead  hits  is  likely  to  get  a  hole  in  it.  Get  the  philosophy 
of  it?" 

"  I  reckon,"  says  Wes,  taking  hold  of  the  gun  kind  of  in- 
terested. "  You  put  these  in  the  holes  and  shut  it  up  and 
then  you  point  it  at  whatever  you  want  the  lead  to  hit,  don't 
you  —  this-a-way  ?  " 


196       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

He  pointed  in  the  direction  of  Gid's  stomach.  Johnny 
let  out  a  yell  and  grabbed  his  hand. 

"  I  didn't  have  my  finger  wrapped  round  the  jigger,"  says 
Wes,  laying  the  gun  down  and  covering  it  with  his  hand. 
"  Wait,  I  want  you  to  tell  me.  Supposing  I  want  the  lead 
to  hit  them  three  dirty  pictures  Mr.  Spencer  has  got  tacked 
up  over  his  bunk,  I'd  point  right  to  the  middle  of  them 
one  after  the  other  and  pull  the  jigger  each  time  I  pointed, 
wouldn't  I?" 

Before  Johnny  could  grab  again  he  picked  up  the  gun, 
aimed  and  pulled  trigger.  You  wouldn't  have  believed  that 
he  did  it  more  than  once  before  the  gun  was  a-laying  smok- 
ing on  the  table,  and  it  didn't  seem  there  was  time  for  that 
once.  It  sounded  like  one  shot,  too,  but  three  of  the  shells 
in  the  gun  was  empty  and  there  was  a  neat  hole  plumb 
center  through  each  one  of  Mr.  Spencer's  dirty  pictures. 

"  I  was  fooling  you,"  says  Wes  to  Johnny.  "  I  reely 
knew  about  guns  all  the  time.  I  cut  my  teeth  on  the  barrel 
of  pappy 's  old  cap-and-ball  and  he  give  it  to  me  a  year  or 
two  after  when  he  got  himself  one  of  the  newfangled  ones." 

Then  he  turned  to  Gid. 

"  We'll  shoot  it  out  if  you  say  so,  Mr.  Spencer,  sir,"  he, 
says,  "  but  that  won't  make  it  no  way  for  a  gentleman  to 
talk." 

"  I  allow  you're  right  about  that,  Wes,"  says  Gid.  "  I 
was  just  joking." 

So  there  wasn't  no  more  talk  about  Mary  Ann  for  that 
while,  but  about  three  weeks  later  —  maybe  less  —  Ed  Barry 
and  Tracy  Lamson  come  in  and  swore  up  and  down  that 
they'd  seen  Wes  and  Mary  Ann  riding  together  over  by 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       197 

Witch  Creek.  Barry  had  his  field  glasses  along  and  him  and 
Tracy  watched  them  by  turns  and  they  was  a-going  to  have 
sport  with  Wes  when  he  got  in. 

You'll  find  out  that  it  wasn't  no  way  for  gentlemen  to 
act,"  says  Johnny  Wells.     "Won't  they,  Gid?" 

Gid  made  out  to  smile,  but  he  didn't  say  nothing.  Tracy 
allowed  that  he'd  cod  Wes  a  few  lines  anyway. 

"  But  the  rich  part  of  it  was  that  Wes  quit  her,"  he  says. 
"  Sure !  Quit  her  cold.  Just  rode  off  and  got  down  in  a 
washout  and  hid.  We  could  see  his  face  plain  and  he  looked 
plumb  disgusted;  and  all  the  while  here  was  Miss  Bodley 
a-lingering  and  moving  on  a  piece  and  lingering  again  and 
looking  to  see  if  he  wasn't  a-coming  back.  Sometimes  she 
lingered  as  much  as  five  or  ten  minutes.  We  couldn't  see 
her  face  account  of  the  old  sunbonnet,  but  I  wouldn't  be 
surprised  if  it  didn't  have  a  kind  of  disgusted  look  too ;  but 
all  at  once  she  give  up,  and  went  a-kiting  and  a-flying.  Wes 
peeked  up  over  the  edge  of  the  washout  after  a  while  and 
when  he  seen  she  was  gone  he  climbed  his  cayuse  and  fol- 
lowed along  on  her  trail ;  but  he  didn't  ride  like  he  wanted 
to  catch  up  with  her  this  side  of  kingdom  come." 

"  I  don't  blame  him,"  says  Ed.  "  That  girl  certainly  ain't 
much.  I  don't  say  she  ain't  a  perfect  lady,  but  she  sure 
don't  lack  more  than  a  quarter  of  being  the  half  of  nothing 
whatever.  I  don't  believe  she's  real  bright,  myself.  I  tried 
to  talk  to  her  once." 

"  And  that  old  sunbonnet ! "  says  Tracy.  "  And  that 
calico  dress !  And  them  shoes !  Oh,  I  reckon  they're 
clean,  but  they  ain't  —  well,  they  ain't  nothing  —  nothing 
out  of  the  way  and  nothing  else,  like  you  say." 

*'  Boys,"  I  says,  "  this  here  is  certainly  a  good  joke,  but 


198       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

you've  carried  it  clear  from  Witch  Creek  here  and  I  reckon 
that  any  farther  would  be  too  far.  I  won't  say  that  a  man 
ain't  excusable  in  being  curious  under  some  circumstances, 
but  if  he  puts  his  eye  to  a  keyhole  he'll  be  a  heap  more 
respected  if  he  don't  tell  it  —  nor  what  he  seen.  The  way 
I  look  at  it  is  that  we're  a  peaceful  family  and  it's  a  pity 
to  have  it  broke  up  with  scandal  and  dissensions  and  cor- 
ner's inquests  and  such.  You  boys  had  best  forget  all 
about  this  and  live  on  to  a  ripe  old  age,  loved  and  honored 
by  all  what  know  you." 

Well,  finally  I  made  them  see  it  that-a-way.  It  seemed 
like  Wes  was  crossing  the  head  of  Witch  Creek,  where  that 
little  park  is,  when  accidental  and  unexpected  he  run  on  to 
Mary  Ann.  She  was  a-setting  in  the  shade  where  the  water 
run  over  the  rocks  and  her  horse  was  cropping  the  young 
green  grass  along  the  bank  a  piece  away,  with  his  bridle 
dragging,  so  at  first  Wes  thought  she  might  have  been 
throwed.  That  was  why  he  stopped.  Then  he  seen  that 
she  was  playing  with  a  heap  of  little  pebbles,  picking  them 
up  one  by  one  and  holding  them  to  the  light,  and  he  thought 
that  was  sure  kind  of  curious  for  a  grown  girl ;  and  then  he 
started  to  go  about  his  business. 

*'  I  was  afraid  you  was  going  to  stay  and  talk  me  to 
death  again,"  she  says.  And  he  didn't  know  she  had  seen 
him. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  he  says. 

"  That's  a  change  anyway,"  she  says,  tossing  a  pebble 
into  the  creek,  "but  I  wisht  you'd  keep  still  long  enough 
for  me  to  talk  to  you." 

"  What-all  did  you  want  to  talk  to  me  about  ?  "  Wes  asks 
her. 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       199 

"  Nothing  in  particular,"  says  Mary  Ann,  stirring  the 
pebbles  round  with  one  finger.  "  I  just  wanted  you  to  find 
out  that  —  I  talked  like  a  lady  most  generally." 

"  I  ain't  doubting  it,"  says  Wes. 

He  waited  for  her  to  say  something  more,  but  she  didn't. 
So,  not  wishing  to  be  unpolite,  he  asked  her  what  she  was 
doing  with  them  pebbles. 

"  Playing  they're  nuggets,"  she  tells  him.  "  Pa  washed 
some  nuggets  out  of  the  creek  in.  Strawberry  Gulch  once. 
If  they  was  gold  I'd  buy " 

She  stopped  and  then  went  on  to  say  that  pa  hadn't  bought 
nothing  but  drinks  for  himself  and  the  crowd.  "  Ma  and 
me  didn't  get  so  much  as  a  new  pair  of  shoes,"  she  says. 

"  It's  right  sightly  here,"  says  'Wes,  looking  round. 

"  You're  getting  your  tongue  worked  loose,  -ain't  you  ?  " 
says  Mary  Ann.  "  Yes,  it's  right  sightly.  That's  why  I 
come  here  when  I  can  get  away.  I  wanted  pa  to  file  on  this 
place,  but  he  allowed  it  was  too  broken.  Pa  likes  plenty  of 
plowland.  I  reckon  he  thinks  that  some  time  he  might 
take  a  notion  to  work  it  and  then  it  would  come  in  handy. 
But  it  certainly  is  pretty.  I'd  like  to  have  a  little  cabin  with 
trumpet  vines  a-growing  over  it  and  posies  all  round  set 
right  there  on  that  there  knoll  —  and  a  spring  house. 
There's  a  cold  spring  right  behind  .'the  knoll  and  the  lime- 
stone on  the  hill  there  splits  as  flat  and  smooth  -as  a  board. 
I'd  have  a  big  slab  of  it  to  work  my  butter  on  and  I'd  fix  — 
well,  there  ain't  no  use  talking  about  it  and  these  here  ain't 
nuggets  either."  She  shook  them  out  of  her  lap. 

Wes  allowed  he'd  have  to  be  moving  on  and  she  told  him 
that  if  he'd  wait  as  much  as  half  a  minute  -she  might  let  him 
ride  a  piece  of  the  way  with  her,  being  she  was  going  in  the 


200      THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

same  direction,  and  before  he  could  figure  a  way  out  of  it 
she'd  led  her  horse  to  a  bowlder  and  got  on  it. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  something  ?  "  asks  Mary  Ann  after  a 
while.  *'  Has  the  cat  got  your  tongue  again  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  not,"  says  Wes.    "  I  was  thinking,"  he  says. 

"  I  suppose  you  was  thinking  that  I  don't  talk  much  like 
a  lady  after  all." 

"  No,  ma'am,"  says  Wes.  "  I  wasn't  thinking  of  you  no 
ways  at  all."  He  didn't  mean  to  hurt  her  feelings ;  he  was 
just  telling  her  what  was  so. 

"  Probably  about  himself  and  how  smart  he  is,"  says 
Mary  Ann,  addressing  her  horse  and  patting  him  on  the 
neck. 

"  That  certainly  is  a  right  sightly  place,"  says  Wes,  sort  of 
absent-minded.  "  I'd  like  to  have  a  little  cabin  there  my- 
self—  and  a  bunch  of  cows  —  and  —  I  wonder!" 

"  That's  what  you  mostly  do  when  you  ain't  talking  a 
streak,  ain't  it  ? "  says  Mary  Ann.  But  Wes  didn't  seem  to 
notice. 

"  You'll  have  to  excuse  me,  Mr.  Clow,"  -says  Mary  Ann 
after  a  minute  or  two.  "  I  reckon  I'm  feeling  ugly,  but  I 
hadn't  ought  to  have  said  that.  Maybe  if  the  cat  got  my 
tongue  I'd  be  better  off,  but  that  cat  would  sure  need  all 
of  its  nine  lives.  I  reckon  your  girl  never  talked  to  you 
like  I  do." 

"  I  ain't  got  no  girl,"  says  Wes. 

"  Lucky  for  her !  "  says  Mary  Ann.  "  And  yet  it's  sort  of 
curious.  They  say  'most  any  kind  of  an  excuse  for  a  fellow 
can  get  some  fool  girl.  Maybe  you  ain't  tried.  Don't  you 
like  girls?" 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       201 

"  I  didn't  want  to  lie  and  say  I  did,"  says  Wes  when  he 
told  me  his  side  of  it ;  "  and  I  didn't  want  to  be  unpolite  and 
say  I  didn't,"  he  says.  "  So  I  left  her  right  then  and  rode 
back  a  ways." 

"  Without  saying  nothing  ?  "  I  says.  "  Well,  the  least 
said  the  soonest  mended,  and  of  course  you  wouldn't  want 
to  be  unpolite  to  a  lady,  no  matter  if  she  was  wearing  a 
sunbonnet." 

Wes  said  that  he'd  heard  a  right  smart  about  that  sun- 
bonnet,  but  all  the  ladies  he  ever  seen  wore  them  account 
of  not  wanting  to  get  freckled.  I  said  that  Mary  Ann 
wasn't  so  bad  looking,  and  he  said  to  that  that  he  hadn't 
never  looked  at  her  —  not  to  notice  —  and  wouldn't  prob- 
ably be  much  of  a  judge,  not  having  seen  but  a  few  and  one 
of  them  was  a  colored  person. 

"  I  ain't  never  thought  about  their  looks,"  says  he,  "  and 
this  here  Miss  Bodley,  all  the  times  I've  seen  her " 

I  asked  him  how  many  times  that  had  been  and  he  looked 
kind  of  foolish  and  said  that  it  was  only  twice,  excusing  the 
time  he'd  got  her  cow  for  her. 

"  J-ust  happenstance,  it  were,"  he  says.  "  And  she  didn't 
say  scarcely  nothing  then.  I  didn't  neither." 

"  Don't  let  it  happen  so  again  no  more,"  I  says.  "  The 
next  time  you  see  her  coming  get  down  into  some  washout 
and  hide  till  she's  gone." 

"  Sho !  "  he  says,  staring  at  me. 

"  Yes,"  says  I,  "  I'm  sort  of  keeping  cases  on  you,  son." 

He  studied  a  while  and  then  he  says :  "  I  don't  want 
for  you  to  get  no  wrong  ideas  about  this  here.  That  little 
gal  ain't  got  no  use  for  me  only  to  plague  me  and  say  things 


202       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

I  can't  make  head,  tail  nor-  middle  of.  I  reckon  she  enjoys 
that.  I  don't  know  why." 

"  You  wouldn't,"  I  says.  "  Personally,"  I  says,  "  I've  al- 
ways found  Miss  Bodley  as  meek  as  Moses  and  as  mum  as 
a  mummy  with  the  mumps,  but  I  reckon  when  she  seen  you 
she  says  to  herself,  '  Here's  my  pie !  Don't  nobody  trouble 
to  bring  me  a  knife.'  " 

"  I'll  keep  away  from  her,"  says  Wes.  "  I'd  done  made 
up  my  mind  to  that." 

But  it  looked  like  there  wasn't  no  need  for  him  to  worry. 
A  month  went  by  and  he  didn't  so  much  as  see  her  tracks. 
Then  one  day  he  reco'nized  the  sunbonnet  a-coming  his  way 
and  he  concluded  to  wait  and  see  what  would  happen ;  but 
it  looked  like  when  Mary  Ann  seen  who  it  was  she  turned 
square  round  and  rode  back  faster  than  she'd  come. 

"  I  reckon  she's  mad  at  me,"  says  Wes,  telling  me. 

"  What  do  you  care  ?  "  says  I. 

"  I  certainly  don't  care  one  particle,"  he  says.  "  Why 
should  I  care  whether  she's  mad  or  glad?  No,  sir,  it  don't 
make  no  difference  to  me.  If  you  think  I  care  you're  fooled 
a  heap.  So's  she,  if  she  thinks  so." 

He  had  one  of  his  long  spells  of  meditation ;  then  he  says : 
"  I  reckon  she  has  her  tribulations  though.  It  must  be  sort 
of  lonesome  on  that  ranch  with  no  neighbors,  and  her  ma 
dead.  I  judge  from  what  I  hear  tell  that  her  pappy  ain't 
none  considerable.  I  just  judge  so." 

I  left  him  still  a-studying,  and  time  went  on  the  way  time 
does  go  on.  I  didn't  hear  no  more  about  Mary  Ann  and 
I  didn't  tech  on  the  subject  of  females  until  that  summer 
they  got  up  a  dance  over  at  Pass  Creek  and  I  had  to  argue 
quite  a  spell  to  get  Wes  to  join  the  crowd  of  us  that  was 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       203 

going  to  take  it  in.  He'd  sort  of  suspicioned  that  there 
would  be  a  passel  of  gals  there  and  I  had  to  own  up  that 
there  was  chances  of  such. 

"  But  what  if  there  is  ?  "  I  says.  "  You've  got  to  be  ex- 
posed to  them  some  time  or  another  and  it's  like  measles  if 
you  put  off  until  you're  along  in  years  —  apt  to  be  fatal; 
whilst  and  whereas  if  you  come  down  with  them  at  our  time 
of  life  chances  are  you'll  have  a  light  case  and  get  over  it. 
And  you've  got  to  learn  to  dance,"  I  says. 

"  I  can  dance  all  right,"  says  Wes.  "  Gabe  Slyfield,  a 
boy  I  used  to  know,  learned  me.  He  played  the  jew's-trump 
too,  and  he  learned  me  that." 

"  You're  all  fixed  out  then,"  I  told  him.  "  All  you  need  is 
a  happy  expression  and  a  shirt  and  a  suit  of  clothes ;  and 
you  can  get  all  of  them  at  the  store." 

So  finally  I  talked  him  down  and  we  went  to  the  dance, 
and  sure  enough  there  was  a  passel  of  gals  there  and 
amongst  them,  looking  like  a  ragweed  in  a  bunch  of  posies, 
was  Mary  Ann. 

I  certainly  felt  right  sorry  for  Mary  Ann.  She  wasn't 
wearing  her  sunbonnet,  but  she  had  on  the  same  old  calico 
dress,  though  it  was  washed  until  the  pattern  was  'most 
scoured  out,  and  the  way  she  was  a-setting  you  seen  that 
she  was  trying  to  hide  her  feet.  She'd  got  her  hair  in  tight 
braids  wound  close  to  her  head,  and  somehow  that  made 
her  look  like  a  young  one ;  and  there  was  a  bow  of  washed- 
out  lilock  ribbon  under  her  chin  that  I  reckon  made  me  feel 
sorry  for  her  more'n  anything  else.  But  she  sure  looked 
forlorn,  setting  there  and  nobody  paying  no  attention  to  her, 
excepting  to  look  at  her  once  in  a  while  and  whisper  and 
giggle  «mce  in  a  while.  I  noticed  Wes  looking  at  her,  but  it 


204       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

was  when  her  head  was  turned.  Her  pa  was  among  them 
present  at  the  door  spectating  —  and  a  sweet-scented  parent 
he  looked  too ! 

Once  a  Z  Bell  waddy  by  the  name  of  Crotty  did  go  up  to 
Mary  Ann  and  crook  his  arm  at  her,  but  she  shook  her  head 
and  didn't  even  smile.  Then  by  and  by  I  bumped  into  Wes 
all  dressed  up  in  his  new  clothes,  and  asked  him  why  he 
wasn't  a-circling  in  the  giddy  mazes. 

"  There's  Miss  Bodley  a-setting  there  waiting  for  you  to 
ask  her,"  I  says.  "  Or  you  could  go  over  and  talk  a  streak 
to  her  if  you  don't  want  to  dance.  You  said  you  could, 
though." 

"  Not  these  here  newfangled  fancy  dances,"  says  he. 

Gid  Spencer  and  Johnny  Wells  come  up  then  and  I  told 
them  how  Wes  was  just  a-telling  me  what  a  daisy  foot- 
shaker  he  was. 

"  Bet  you  a  dollar  and  fifteen  cents  he  don't  know  one 
foot  from  the  other,"  says  Johnny.  "  Him  dance !  " 

"  Not  these  here  fancy  dances,"  says  Wes.  "  I  don't 
know  nothing  about  these  quadrilles  and  round-and-round 
hugging  carryings-on,  but  I  can  dance  the  kind  I  know." 

"  Not  no  kind,"  says  Johnny.  "  I've  got  a  dollar  and 
fifteen  cents  that  says  you  can't  lift  one  foot  up  and  set  the 
other  down  to  any  tune  that  was  ever  scraped  off  a  string  or 
blowed  through  a  hole." 

"  Show  him,  Wes,"  I  says.  "  Show  him  how  Old  Man 
Clow's  boy  can  dance." 

"  I'll  take  you  up  on  that,"  says  Wes  to  Johnny.  They 
had  just  finished  the  quadrille  and  was  going  to  their  seats. 
Wes  walked  up  to  Matt  Bingham,  who  was  wiping  off  his 
face  and  neck  with  his  fiddle  on  his  knees.  "  Can  you  play 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       205 

Turkey  in  the  Straw?  "  he  asks.  "  If  you'll  play  it  while  I 
dance  I'll  give  you  a  dollar  and  fifteen  cents  or  a  large  strip 
of  hide." 

The  next  thing  you  know  Wes  was  out  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor  and  dancing ;  and  when  I  say  dancing  I  mean  pre- 
zactly  and  excisely  what  I  say.  As  slow  as  he  talked  and 
moved  and  turned  things  over  in  his  mind,  the  way  he  lifted 
them  feet  of  his  and  set  them  down  was  certainly  surprising. 
It  might  have  been  the  sticks  rapping  on  a  snaredrum  or  a 
hungry  red-headed  woodpecker  drilling  for  breakfast  the 
way  it  sounded.  Double  shuffle,  heel-and-toe,  whirl  and 
rattle  and  stamp  and  whirl  back  and  stamp,  Matt  sawing 
away  his  level  best  and  liveliest  and  never  once  ahead  a  half 
of  a  fraction  of  a  second,  and  Wes  looking  all  the  time  as  if 
the  cold  clay  clods  was  a-falling  on  the  coffin  of  his  nearest 
and  dearest. 

I  just  took  my  eyes  offn  him  the  once  and  I  seen  Mary 
Ann  a-taking  it  all  in,  her  lips  parted  and  a  look  on  her  face 
that  give  me  all  the  information  I  wanted  as  to  her  reasons 
for  a-coming  to  this  shindig,  shoes  or  no  shoes.  Then  Wes 
give  an  extra  jump  and  come  down  on  the  last  note  with  a 
flat  foot  on  the  floor  that  sounded  like  the  crack  of  a  gun. 
At  the  same  time  he  let  out  a  yip  that  would  have  done  credit 
to  a  full  quart  —  and  then,  as  the  feller  says,  there  come  a 
storm  of  applause. 

They  wanted  him  to  keep  it  up,  but  he  shook  his  head  and 
edged  through  them  to  Johnny  Wells  and  collected  his  dollar 
and  fifteen  cents,  which  he  turned  over  to  Matt.  Then  he 
made  a  break  for  the  door  and  when  I  followed  him  out  I 
found  him  untying  his  horse.  He  was  going  back  to  the 
ranch.  He'd  seen  enough  of  this  here  and  he  needed  sleep. 


206       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

He  couldn't  get  over  this  here  thing  of  hugging  dances;  it 
didn't  seem  like  a  lady'd  ought  to  let  herself  get  hugged  by 
anybody  that  come  along — and  right  afore  folks. 

"  I  took  notice  she  didn't.     I'll  say  that  for  her,"  he  says. 

"  Who  didn't  what? "  I  asked  him. 

"  I  just  happened  to  think  of  Miss  Bodley,"  he  says. 
"  She  didn't,  and  I  give  her  credit  for  it."  He  throwed  his 
leg  over  the  saddle. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I'll  go  back  along  with  you,"  I  says, 
wishing  to  pursue  the  subject. 

"  You  don't  need  to  do  that,"  says  he,  and  off  he  went. 

"  Hum !  "  I  says  to  myself.  "  Want  to  be  alone  with  your 
own  steaming  thoughts,  do  you?  Just  happened  to  think 
of  Miss  Bodley,  did  you?  Against  hugging  promiscuous, 
are  you?  Well,  it's  a  right  curious  world  and  some  of  us 
has  got  a  heap  to  learn  about  it.'* 

It  wasn't  but  a  little  time  after  that  I  seen  Gid  Spencer 
a-talking  to  Mary  Ann  right  interested,  and  she  said  some- 
thing or  another  twicet  and  shook  her  head  and  then  got  up 
and  gathering  in  her  pa  at  the  doorway  quit  the  dazzling 
scene. 

Wes  had  kind  of  got  standing  with  the  boys  after  that 
shooting  practice  of  his  and  this  hoedown  of  his  helped  it 
along  a  heap.  Johnny  Wells  says :  "  He  may  look  like  a 
plumb  fool  and  he  may  act  like  a  plumb  fool,  but  I  notice 
that  when  it  comes  to  a  showdown  it's  'most  generally  the 
other  fellow  that  looks  foolish." 

I  reckon  that  was  the  way  of  it.  He'd  got  to  be  a  good 
cow  hand  too,  so  Dan  Scott  had  told  him  he  was  to  draw 
puncher's  wages  at  the  end  of  the  month.  Pay  day  was 
a-coming  on  slow  as  usual,  but  it  was  mighty  close  all  the 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       207 

same;  so  us  boys  was  hustling  in  the  hay  for  all  we  was 
worth,  so's  there  wouldn't  be  no  good  excuse  for  detaining 
us  from  town  when  it  did  come.  When  we  wasn't  thinking 
of  the  glad  event  we  was  talking  about  it  or  making  prepara- 
tion. 

Ed  Barry  and  Tracy  Lamson  had  been  busy  figuring  a 
system  to  beat  the  wheel  and  they'd  got  it  down  fine  and 
was  going  to  pool  their  capital  to  work  it  and  then  quit  the 
cow  business  for  good  and  all  and  live  in  pomp  and  gilded 
splendor.  Gid  had  a  string  of  girls  that  he  was  going  to 
distribute  his  society  amongst  and  he  was  studying  the  fash- 
ion plates  in  a  clothing  catalogue. 

Johnny  Wells  and  Bud  Westerman  was  eating  all  they 
could  of  Dad's  cooking  so's  they'd  get  sicker  of  it  than  ever 
and  appreciate  the  hotel  and  restaurant  grub.  Not  a  one  of 
them  was  a-going  to  take  more  than  a  temperate  drink,  just 
for  the  form  of  the  thing,  but  they  all  looked  forward  to  an 
evening  at  the  Jewel  Theayter  and  there  was  some  mention 
of  the  lady  actresses  there.  I  said  that  I  was  a-going  to 
put  in  my  time  looking  after  Wes  and  seeing  that  he  behaved 
himself. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  care  to  go,"  says  Wes.  "  I  ain't  used 
to  town  ways  and  I  don't  believe  I  want  to  get  used  to  them ; 
besides  which,  I  aim  to  save  my  money." 

"  What's  the  use  of  it  when  you've  saved  it  ?  "  says  Barry. 
"  You've  got  to  spend  it  some  time,  ain't  you  —  unless  you 
die  first?  And  there  ain't  no  sadder  sight  on  earth  than  a 
corpse  with  money  in  its  pockets.  I  remember  a  man  down 
in  Texas  once  that  when  we  went  through  him  after  his 
sperrit  had  winged  its  flight  we  found  clost  to  a  hundred 
dollars  sewed  up  in  his  vest  —  and  he'd  been  to  town  only 


208       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

the  day  before  and  must  have  had  it  with  him.  I  never 
forgot  that  and  never  will.  It  was  a  lesson  to  me." 

"  What  are  you  a-saving  it  for,  Wes  ?  "  asks  Johnny. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  says  Wes,  sort  of  dreamy.  "  I 
reckon  some  of  these  days  I'll  take  up  a  piece  of  land  — 
at  the  head  of  a  creek  somewheres,  where  the  water's  clear 
and  there's  rocks  for  it  to  run  over  and  a  sightly  knoll  for 
a  cabin  and  maybe  a  cold  spring  and  " —  he  catched  my  eye 
on  him  — "  and  such,"  he  says.  "  Up  in  the  Belle  Fourche 
country,  I  reckon.  That's  where  I  started  for." 

"  Hum !  "  I  says  to  myself.  "  Learning  right  along,  ain't 
you?" 

But  I  made  up  my  mind  that  he  was  a-going  to  go  into 
town  with  me  and  get  initiated  right  under  my  watchful  eye, 
so  I  kept  after  him  and  finally  he  weakened  and  when  pay 
day  come  and  we  had  received  the  meed  of  our  toil  and 
sorrow  six  solitary  horsemen  might  have  been  seen  wending 
their  way  on  the  keen  jump  for  Blueblanket  —  and  Wes 
was  among  them. 

Well,  we  left  the  other  boys,  Wes  and  me,  and  had  a  right 
pleasant  and  instructive  time  taking  in  all  the  sights  of  the 
town.  I  showed  him  Judge  Wilson's  new  steel  windmill 
that  he'd  just  put  up,  and  the  wax  heads  in  Miss  McArdle's 
milliner  store  window,  and  the  new  brick  calaboose  —  ex- 
plaining how  the  bricks  was  laid  and  stuck  together  with 
mortar  —  and  quite  a  few  other  objects  of  interest;  and 
then  I  eased  him  into  Duffy's  saloon  and  introduced  him  to 
Pat  and  ginger  pop.  He  didn't  seem  to  cotton  to  Pat,  but 
the  pop  sure  appealed  to  him  and  he  drunk  six  bottles  of  it 
before  I  could  drag  him  away  from  the  bar.  Then  we 
watched  Lamson  and  Barry  working  their  system,  still  hope- 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       209 

ful  and  not  losing  as  much  as  you  might  think;  and  from 
there  we  went  over  to  the  Golden  Palace  Restaurant 
and  Wes  showed  them  how  Old  Man  Clow's  boy  could 
eat. 

It  was  getting  pretty  well  along  by  the  time  the  boy  heaved 
a  sigh  and  give  up.  "  Now,"  says  I,  "  I'm  a-going  to  make 
your  eyes  bug  out  like  fretful  porcupines." 

And  without  no  more  words  I  took  him  down  the  street 
and  into  the  Jewel  and  done  just  what  I  said.  He  looked 
at  the  curtain,  all  lit  up,  with  the  picture  of  the  lake  and  the 
boats  with  the  striped  sails  and  the  residences  with  dooms 
and  spinnacles  backed  up  against  the  purple  mountains 
painted  onto  it,  and  I  could  feel  him  shiver  like  a  terrier  at 
a  rat  hole.  He  looked  at  the  big  chandelier  and  the  boxes 
with  their  yellow  plush  hangings  and  brass  rails  and  at  all 
the  gilt  gingerbread  fixings  and  mirrors  one  after  the  other, 
and  you  could  see  he  was  scared  to  death  that  somebody 
would  kick  something  over  and  wake  him  up. 

I  sure  got  the  worth  of  my  money  right  there,  but  there 
was  more  to  come  —  when  the  fiddlers  tuned  up  and  begun 
to  play  and  then  when  the  curtain  went  up  and  Mick  and 
Mack  come  on  and  done  their  stunt.  By  ginger !  I  thought 
he'd  have  a  fit  the  way  he  strangled  and  whooped  at  them 
chestnuts.  Then  there  was  the  Tyrolean  bell  ringers  and 
Wes  was  real  interested  in  them,  but  it  wasn't  till  the  next 
number  —  Miss  Birdie  De  Lancey,  the  Nightingale  of  Nig- 
gerhead  Gulch,  in  her  world-famed  and  renowned  song- 
and-dance  specialties  —  that  the  smilax  was  reached. 

Well,  the  first  thing  Wes  drawed  in  his  breath  and  let  it 
out  again  with  a  whoo-oo-oof  —  like  he  was  blowing  a 


210       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

spoonful  of  hot  soup.  "  My  gollies !  "  he  says  in  a  whisper. 
"  My  gollies ! "  And  the  way  that  come  out  you  didn't 
hardly  need  to  look  at  him  to  know  that  Birdie  had  hit  him 
like  a  safe  dropping  from  the  third  story.  He  sat  there  just 
a-worshiping  that  there  vision  of  legs  and  loveliness,  a-drink- 
ing  in  the  melodiousness  of  her  voice  like  he  had  that  ginger 
pop,  and  even  more  so,  and  a-following  every  move  she 
made  similar  to  a  fireworks  display.  I  never  seen  a  good 
dog  fight  even  get  the  strict  attention  that  Wes  gave  to 
Birdie's  performances. 

The  first  song  she  sung  wasn't  noways  suitable  for  young 
ears  like  Wesley's,  but  I  reckon  he  didn't  sabe,  so  it  was  all 
right.  When  she  danced  I'm  bound  to  say  that  he  tried  not 
to  look  and  blushed  a  considerable,  but  he  told  me  after- 
wards that  he  knowed  she  didn't  have  no  idea  that  her  dress 
wasn't  staying  down  the  way  it  wasn't,  and  that  some  lady'd 
ought  to  tell  her  about  it.  She  sung  another  song  about  her 
babe.  Yes,  sir,  she  did.  Her  babe.  And  Wes  liked  that 
and  when  she  sung  about  Those  Little  Old  Patched  Pants 
That  Johnny  Wore,  and  come  to  how  when  Johnny  died  and 
called  her  to  his  bedside  I  looked  at  Wes  and  the  tears  was 
astreaming  down  his  face. 

When  she  got  through  with  her  turn  and  the  encore  Wes 
rubbed  his  overworked  hands  on  his  knees  and  turned  to 
me.  "  My  gollies ! "  he  says.  "  I  didn't  know  there  was 
anything  like  her  in  the  world !  " 

"  Quite  a  few  of  them,  son,"  I  says.  "  Quite  a  few," 
Then  I  got  a  shock. 

"  Do  you  reckon,"  he  says,  swallowing,  "  do  you  reckon 
I  could  get  to  speak  to  her?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  says.     "  You  don't  think  that  a  high- 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       211 

toned  exclusioned  lady  like  her  would  have  anything  to  say 
to  a  cowpuncher,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  s'pose  not,"  he  says,  and  he  studied  on  that  a  while. 
Then  he  says:  "  But  I'd  like  right  well  to  speak  to  her  — 
and  by  gollies !  I'm  a-going  to !  " 

Well,  I  naturally  seen  to  it  that  he  didn't  that  night. 
Birdie  fluttered  round  the  tables  a  spell  after  that  and  if  I 
hadn't  been  bashful  I  might  maybe  have  arranged  an  in- 
terview. But  I  didn't.  I  told  Wes  that  the  gentlemen  she 
was  a-talking  to  was  old  friends  of  her  folks  and  childhood 
playmates  and  that  they'd  be  offended  and  she'd  be  offended 
if  he  made  any  breaks  like  he'd  mentioned  and  that  if  he'd 
be  good  and  go  back  to  the  ranch  with  me  right  away  I'd 
study  out  some  way  for  him  to  get  acquainted  with  the 
lady.  He  finally  allowed  that  maybe  I  knowed  best  and  I 
got  him  away.  The  rest  of  the  show  wasn't  interesting 
him  nohow.  But  he  talked  Birdie  all  the  way  back  and  all 
of  the  next  day  until  the  other  boys  come  a-straggling  in, 
and  it  was  a  considerable  strain  on  my  mind  what  to  say  to 
ease  him  off  without  roasting  the  fairest  and  noblest  and 
smartest  of  her  sex  and  getting  him  hostile  and  mule- 
headed. 

Then  I  was  foolish  enough  to  mention  the  matter  in  con- 
fidence to  Johnny  Wells,  and  when  Johnny  had  wiped  away 
his  tears  and  got  his  voice  back  he  goes  and  mentions  the 
matter  in  confidence  to  Gid  Spencer,  and  right  there  the 
trouble  begun.  It  seems  like  Gid  went  to  Wes  and  got  to 
conversing  about  Birdie,  particular  careful  and  respectful; 
and  having  the  esteemed  honor  of  knowing  her  and  knowing 
that  Wes  was  a  gentleman  he  said  he'd  do  what  he  wouldn't 
do  for  his  own  brother,  and  give  him  a  knock-down  to  her. 


212       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

I  reckon  Wes  must  have  mistrusted  that  I'd  got  some  pure 
tyrannical  and  narrow  views  about  lady  actresses  on  the 
stage  —  maybe  Gid  had  told  him  that  I  had ;  anyway  a  day 
or  two  later  I  come  back  from  Beecher's  Buttes  with  a 
bunch  of  beef  cattle  for  shipping  and  found  that  Wes  and 
Gid  had  pulled  their  freight  into  town  together  and  it  was 
noon  the  next  day  before  they  got  back. 

"  Well,  Wes,"  I  says,  taking  pains  to  speak  kind  and 
cheerful,  "  was  she  all  your  fond  fancy  painted  her  —  or 
was  it  fancy  done  it  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stegg,"  says  he,  giving  me  that  sober  steady  look 
of  his,  "  you've  got  the  wrong  idea  about  that  lady,  Miss  De 
Lancey,  if  it's  her  you're  making  mention  of.  She  ain't  like 
the  common  ordinary  run  of  ladies  and  you've  got  to  be 
acquainted  with  her  to  realize  what  she  is  and  not  be  no 
common  ordinary  run  yourself ;  but  I  wouldn't  like  to  hear 
no  man  make  light  of  her.  I'd  be  a  right  smart  put  out.  I 
would  so." 

"  Wes,"  I  says,  "  to  change  the  subject,  could  I  borrow 
ten  dollars  offin  you  until  I  get  good  and  ready  to  pay  it 
back?" 

He  got  red  in  the  face.     "  I'm  powerful  sorry,  Sam,"  he. 
says,  "  but  I  ain't  got  no  ten  dollars.     I  —  I  ain't  got  no 
money  at  all,  the  way  it  is,  or  you  could  have  it  free  and 
welcome.     You  know  that." 

I  sure  knew  it,  and  I  knew  the  way  his  summer's  wages 
had  gone  to.  Also  I  knew  just  how  much  good  it  would  do 
to  try  to  keep  Nature  from  taking  her  course.  So  I  didn't 
make  no  such  attempt  and  from  that  on  Wes  was  a-wearing 
the  trail  bare  into  town  every  time  things  was  so  he  could 
get  away.  Sometimes  Gid  went  with  him,  but  not  every 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       213 

time.  Rumors  and  reports  was  to  the  effect  that  ever  since 
the  dance  Mr.  Gid  had  been  doing  his  best  to  be  neighborly 
wkh  old  man  Bodley.  I  knew  of  two  times  when  circum- 
stances pointed  strong  to  him  visiting  at  the  old  man's 
claim  shack.  His  horse  was  outside  and  he  wasn't  occupy- 
ing no  space  on  it  both  times  I  noticed.  However  that 
might  have  been,  Wes  certainly  worked  hard  enough  to 
make  up  for  any  time  he  lost  on  them  jaunts  of  his,  and 
that's  what  Dan  Scott  said  when  I  asked  him  why  he  didn't 
make  the  boy  stay  on  the  reservation. 

"  How  would  I  make  him  ? "  says  Dan.  "  You  tell  me. 
Every  so  often  he  comes  to  me  and  says :  '  Mr.  Scott,  sir, 
I  aim  to  go  into  town  to-night  and  I'd  like  for  you  to  let 
me  have  what  wages  is  coming  to  me,  please,  sir.'  I  might 
say :  '  Sure !  take  your  hornswoggled  odoriferous  wages  and 
my  holy  holocausted  blessing,  Mr.  Clow.  Go  plumb  to 
with  them  and  don't  give  yourself  the  trouble  of  com- 
ing back  neither.'  Well,  I  don't  say  that  because  I  feel 
down  in  my  heart  that  he'd  go,  and  he's  the  only  one  of 
you  that's  worth  any  more'n  the  cheapest  kind  of  three-on- 
a-grid  accommodations  in  Gehenna.  A  sweet  outfit  I've 
got !  "  says  Dan.  "  A  luscious  lot  of  lop-eared,  loafing, 
lallygagging,  lunkheads !  Here's  Gid  Spencer  half  the  time 
chasing  that  little  mudhen  of  Bodley's." 

"  Meaning  Miss  Mary  Ann  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Meaning  I'm  going  to  get  some  work  done  on  this  ranch 
if  I  can  persuade  you  gentlemen  to  fall  in  with  my  views," 
he  says.  "  I  figure  on  doing  some  fencing  to  begin  with, 
and  I'd  like  to  have  you  start  in  hauling  wire  bright  and 
early  to-morrow  morning  while  Gid  and  Johnny  amuse  them- 
selves getting  out  a  few  cedar  posts  and  Mr.  Clow  and  Barry 


214       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

excavates  holes  in  the  ground  to  put  them  in.  Tracy  and 
me  can  do  what  riding  there  is  to  be  done  for  a  spell.  What 
you  waddies  need  is  exercise,  and  by  the  jumping  jubilant 
Jehosaphat  you're  a-going  to  get  it  —  if  there  ain't  no  ob- 
jections on  your  parts." 

I  told  him  I  reckoned  it  would  be  all  right  with  me  and 
he  said  he  was  pleased  to  hear  it  and  real  obliged.  Then 
as  I  was  going  away  he  called  me  back. 

"  That  kid  Clow  is  getting  his  innocence  rubbed  off  a  con- 
siderable in  these  town  jaunts,"  he  says.  "  He's  got  away 
and  beyond  ginger  pop  too.  The  last  time  —  did  you  notice 
it  on  him  ?  Well,  why  don't  you  talk  to  him  ?  " 

I  said  shucks  I  couldn't  talk  to  him,  and  he  said  he 
thought  that  was  my  specialty.  I  didn't  bandy  no  words 
with  him  further,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  the  first 
good  excuse  I  got  I'd  crawl  Mr.  Gid  Spencer's  royal  Amer- 
ican hump  and  learn  him  about  enticing  the  youth  of  our 
land  into  paths  of  intemperance  and  also  concerning  the 
closed  season  on  mudhens.  I  kind  of  wondered  if  Wes  had 
heard  about  Gid's  growing  habit  of  riding  over  the  ridge 
evenings.  Seemed  like  he  must  have.  And  he  had,  but 
he  didn't  scarcely  believe  it  was  Mary  Ann. 

"  It  don't  seem  hardly  reasonable,"  he  says.  "  That  gal 
ain't  —  Miss  Bodley  ain't  hardly  the  style  Gid  would  cotton 
to,  I  wouldn't  think.  Sort  of  —  I  don't  know,  but  —  she 
ain't  got  much  to  say,  Miss  Bodley  ain't,  and  no  style.  She 
ain't She's  a  lady  though." 

"  Seen  her  lately  ? "  I  asked  him. 

"  Not  more'n  just  to  pass  the  time  of  day,"  he  says. 
"  She  ain't  got  much  to  say.  But  all  the  same  —  I 
wonder " 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       215 

"What?  "I  asked  him. 

After  a  while  I  asked  him  again.  "  What  was  you  won- 
dering about,  Wes  ?  " 

"  What's  your  ideas  and  opinions  as  to  a  lady  smoking 
cigarettes  ?  "  he  asks.  "  My  step-aunt  she  smoked  a  corn- 
cob pipe  and  there  wasn't  never  no  finer  lady  than  what 
she  was;  and  my  grandmammy  she  smoked  a  pipe  and 
dipped  snuff.  She  was  right  well  thought  of.  But  some- 
ways  a  cigarette  —  what's  your  idea  ?  " 

"  I'm  kind  of  strict  myself,"  I  says.  "  Personally  I  think 
that  dipping  snuff  and  smoking  is  as  far  as  a  lady  should 
go  in  the  use  of  tobacco.  Some  don't;  but  that's  the  way 
I  feel." 

"  And  about  short  skirts  ?  "  he  says.  "  Of  course  if  a 
lady  is  a  professional  lady  —  well  about  language  ?  " 

"  It  depends,"  I  told  him.  "If  a  lady  is  a  professional 
mule-skinner  or  something  like  that  you  might  take  a  liberal 
allowance  off  what  you  think.  But  why  do  you  ask  me 
these  here  strange  questions,  buddy?" 

"  I  was  just  a- wondering,"  he  says. 

"  I've  got  ideas  on  the  subject  of  liquor  used  by  the  young 
and  tender  —  if  you  want  me  to  tell  you  too,"  I  says. 

"  I  reckon  I  don't,"  he  says  in  the  same  slow  sober  way. 
"  I  reckon  I  ain't  so  young  and  tender  but  what  I  can  go 
to  town  and  have  a  good  time  if  I  want  to,"  he  says.  "  I'm 
going  to  town  to-night  and  I'm  going  to  get  full  if  I  want  to. 
You'd  get  full  too  if  — if  you " 

He  walked  away  without  finishing  what  he  was  a-going 
to  say,  and  Johnny  Wells  santers  up  and  begins  to  prattle. 
"  Wes  allows  he's  going  to  town  again,"  he  says.  "  He'll 
be  in  elegant  shape  to  dig  post  holes  in  the  morning,  won't 


216       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

he?  Say,  Birdie  isn't  doing  a  thing  to  him  —  deviling  him 
round  the  way  she  is,  coaxing  and  petting  him  one  minute 
and  then  quitting  him  cold  and  carrying  on  with  some  of 
the  other  suckers.  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  to  hear  of 
trouble  some  of  these  pleasant  evenings.  Wes  is  looking 
as  if  he'd  wintered  with  a  hard  crust  on  the  snow  already. 
And  talking  about  Birdie,  who  do  you  think  Payne  Sim- 
mons told  me  he  seen  at  the  Jewel  about  a  couple  of  weeks 
ago?  Miss  Mary  Ann  Bodley,  if  you  please.  Yes,  sir, 
Payne  says  she  was  there,  sunbonnet  and  all. 

"  Her  old  man  was  with  her  though,  and  Payne  says  he 
looked  as  if  he  wished  he  wasn't.  He's  a  shiftless  old 
rooster,  but  I  reckon  she  makes  him  do  'most  anything  she 
wants  excepting  hustle.  I  figure  that  she  wanted  to  see 
what  a  show  was  like  and  naturally  made  the  old  man  take 
her  in  there  whether  or  no.  Plumb  ignorant!  But  they 
got  out  of  there  just  as  soon  as  Birdie  had  finished  her 
turn,  and  she  was  as  red  as  a  beet." 

"  That's  news,"  I  says.  "  How  do  you  think  you'll  like 
getting  out  posts  ?  " 

That  set  him  off.  There  wasn't  none  of  the  boys  that 
was  real  enthusiastic  over  Dan's  fencing  idea.  But  all  the 
same  the  work  started  bright  and  early  the  next  morning. 
It  was  a  big  pasture  the  upper  end  of  Witch  and  I  took  my 
first  load  of  wire  up  there  and  found  Wes  already  digging 
post  holes.  He  certainly  looked  tough,  his  eyes  all  red 
where  they  ought  to  have  been  clear  white,  and  lines  round 
his  mouth.  Seemed  like  I  could  just  see  his  head  cracking 
in  all  directions.  But  he  was  digging.  He  was  so  busy 
digging  that  he  wouldn't  no  more  than  grunt  when  I  spoke 
to  him,  so  I  set  the  brake  on  the  wagon  and  lit  my  pipe  and 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN      217 

just  watched  him  work,  not  speaking  so's  not  to  annoy  him. 
But  I  don't  s'pose  I'd  sat  there  ten  minutes  before  he  looked 
at  me  out  of  them  bloodshot  eyes  of  his  and  said  a  bad 
word  and  intimated  that  I'd  better  mosey  along  if  I  didn't 
want  the  shovel  on  the  side  of  my  jaw. 

I  told  him  that  he'd  got  me  mad  at  him  and  he  needn't 
to  expect  no  bromide  tablets  nor  sympathy  nor  nothing  from 
me,  and  I  moved  on  up  the  line  Dan  had  staked.  I'd  got 
to  the  bend  by  the  limestone  banks  —  just  about  where 
Mary  Ann  wanted  her  cabin  —  when  I  seen  a  old  magazine 
fluttering  by  the  side  of  the  trail  leading  through  the  cotton- 
woods  down  to  the  creek  and  I  got  out  and  picked  it  up. 
The  cover  was  tore  off,  but  the  front  picture  was  there  — 
a  mighty  peart  good-looking  female  a-setting  on  a  table  and 
swinging  a  pair  of  right  shapely  legs.  Underneath  it  said 
it  was  Minnie  Hauk  as  Carmen. 

Well,  as  I  was  starting  to  get  in  the  wagon  again  I  seen 
fresh  horse  tracks,  shed  all  round,  on  the  trail,  and  being 
curious  I  followed  them  on  down  and  come  on  to  Mary 
Ann  herself.  She  was  bending  over  the  water  and  I 
couldn't  make  out  at  first  what  she  was  doing.  Then  I 
seen  she  had  an  old  milk  pan  and  was  sloshing  it  round 
like  she  was  washing  pay  dirt.  I  watched  her  for  a  while 
and  sure  enough  that  was  what  she  was  doing. 

"  You  won't  find  no  gold  in  that  limestone  forma- 
tion, Mary  Ann,"  I  says,  and  then  laughed  to  see  her 
jump. 

"  I'm  just  playing  at  finding  gold,"  she  says  when  she  seen 
who  it  was.  "  Pa  washed  out  some  nuggets  at  Strawberry 
Gulch  one  time.  But  they  say  gold  is  where  you  find  it, 
don't  they?"  She  spoke  kind  of  breathless. 


218       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

"  That's  so  too,"  I  says,  "  and  so's  rubber  boots  and 
religion." 

"If  you  found  some  nuggets  where  would  you  go  to  sell 
them  —  if  you  couldn't  get  to  go  to  Dead  wood  —  and  how 
would  you  do  ?  " 

I  told  her  all  I  knew,  which  —  if  you'll  believe  me  — 
wasn't  much  on  that  particular  subject.  Then  I  told  her 
that  we  was  going  to  fence  her  out  of  her  mining  claim  and 
she  allowed  that  Mr.  Spencer  had  told  her.  ''  But  there's 
always  wire  nippers,"  she  says. 

"  Mr.  Spencer  is  a  fine,  handsome,  high  toned  boy,"  I 
observes. 

"And  nobody  knows  it  better  than  what  he  does,"  says 
Mary  Ann. 

"  We  all  try  to  copy  after  him  at  the  T  A  N,"  I  says. 
"  Wes  Clow  is  particular  ambitious  that-a-way." 

"  He's  making  an  elegant  success  of  it,"  she  says,  and 
the  sunbonnet  being  turned  my  way  for  half  a  second  I 
catched  a  glimpse  of  her  face  and  somehow  got  the  idea 
that  maybe  Gid  Spencer  wasn't  so  short-sighted  after  all. 
But  she'd  got  quite  a  curl  to  her  lip. 

"  Too  bad  Wes  is  sick !  "  I  says.  "  I  hope  it  ain't  nothing 
serious." 

The  sunbonnet  switched  round  again  full  on  me.  She 
didn't  say  nothing,  but  she'd  turned  white  —  plain  white. 

"  Yes,"  I  says,  "  he's  too  sick  to  be  digging  post  holes  out 
in  the  sun  all  alone  by  himself  not  more'n  half  a  mile  down 
creek  from  here,  which  is  what  he's  a-doing.  Well,  I  reckon 
I'll  have  to  wrench  myself  away  if  I'm  a-going  to  get  an- 
other load  here  by  noon." 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       219 

"  I  s'pose  he's  been  getting  full  again,"  says  Mary  Ann. 
"  That's  my  book  you've  got  there.  I  thought  I'd  dropped 
it  somewheres." 

I  gave  her  the  magazine  and  pulled  my  freight.  Hav- 
ing the  team  I  couldn't  disgrace  myself  by  riding  out  to  see 
what  happened,  but  it  was  the  way  I  figured.  I  wasn't  no 
sooner  out  of  sight  than  Mary  Ann  catched  up  her  horse  and 
rode  down  creek. 

She  found  him  a-laying  on  his  belly  trying  to  drink  up 
the  visible  water  supply  of  Witch,  and  she  waited  until  he 
raised  himself  up  with  a  heart-rending  groan  and  turned 
and  seen  her.  She  didn't  say  nothing.  Just  looked  at  him 
much  the  same  as  I'd  done  a  while  back. 

"  Howdy !  "  says  Wes  finally.  "  I  was  getting  myself  a 
drink,"  he  says. 

"'I  allowed  that  was  what  you  was  doing,"  she  says. 
"  Does  it  always  make  you  holler  like  it  hurt  you ;  or  is  it 
just  because  it  ain't  nothing  but  water?  " 

He  turned  red  and  said  it  was  because  he  had  a  misery 
in  his  head  and  she  said  a  misery  was  something,  and  he 
says  you  bet  it  was  something. 

"  You're  getting  so's  you  can  talk  back,"  says  Mary  Ann. 
"  A  heap  improved  from  when  I  first  met  up  with  you, 
ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Maybe,"  says  Wes.  "  I  guess  I'll  be  getting  back  to 
my  post  holes." 

"  You'd  better  have  another  before  you  go,"  says  she. 
"  The  morning's  young  yet  and  one  more  won't  hurt  you. 
So  you  think  that  maybe  you've  improved?  Well,  I  don't; 
but  then  I  may  be  mistooken  and  drinking  whisky  and 


220       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

gambling  and  carrying  on  with  girls  that  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  themselves  may  be  improvements.  I  thought 
you  was  particular  about  a  girl  acting  like  a  lady." 

"  I  am,"  says  Wes,  looking  black  at  her  from  under  his 
eyebrows. 

"  But  you  like  a  lady  to  be  up-and-a-coming,  ain't 
that  it?" 

"  That's  it,"  says  Wes. 

"And  have  lots  of  pretty  clothes  and  be  right  careful 
not  to  wear  too  much  of  them  at  any  one  time  or  place?  " 
says  Mary  Ann.  "  Not  old  sunbonnets  and  calico  dresses  ?  " 

"  That's  it,"  says  Wes,  sneering. 

"  And  smoke  cigarettes  ?  " 

"  You've  got  it  figured  down  fine,"  says  Wes,  laughing 
like  a  man  laughs  when  he  don't  feel  like  it.  "  Them's 
the  kind  I  like.  Sure!" 

"  It's  just  as  well  to  know  a  person's  tastes,"  says  Mary 
Ann.  "  You  ain't  afraid  of  folks  laughing  at  you  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  ain't,"  says  Wes.  "If  folks  is  willing  to 
take  the  resk  they're  kindly  welcome." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,*  says  Mary  Ann,  and  she  spoke  sort  of 
meek  and  low  and  a  mite  trembly.  "I  —  I  reckon  folks 
would  laugh  at  you  quite  a  considerable  if  —  if  you  took 
me  to  the  dance  they're  going  to  have  at  Pass  Creek  two 
weeks  from  to-night.  Are  you  certain  sure  that  you 
wouldn't  be  afraid  to,  Mr.  Clow?" 

Well,  that  sure  took  Wes  aback.  "I  —  uh  —  I  wouldn't 
be  afraid  to,"  he  says,  "  but " 

"  Then  you'll  take  me  ? "  she  cuts  in.  "  That  sure  is 
clever  of  you,  Mr.  Clow.  I  hoped  you  would,  but  I  thought 
maybe  you  wouldn't  want  to.  I'm  right  sorry  now  I  spoke 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       221 

to  you  the  way  I  did.  A  man  has  certainly  got  the  right 
to  spend  his  time  and  his  money  the  way  he  wants  to, 
whatever  folks  think,  and  it  ain't  their  business  to  tell  him 
how.  I  beg  your  pardon,  grant  your  grace  and  hope  the 
cat  won't  scratch  your  face.  Then  I'll  be  a-waiting  for  you 
two  weeks  from  to-night  —  and  come  right  early,  please." 

Wes  was  so  plumb  flustrated  that  he  nodded.  He 
couldn't  have  spoken  no  ways. 

"  And  being  a  gentleman  you  won't  mention  to  nobody 
that  you've  asked  me  ?  "  says  Mary  Ann.  "  I've  got  par- 
ticular reasons  for  not  wanting  you  to." 

Wes  nodded  again,  staring  at  her  like  she  was  some 
new  and  unusual  kind  of  an  uncommon  ghost.  Then  he 
started  to  speak,  but  at  the  same  time  Mary  Ann  started  her 
old  sorrel  —  and  she  started  him  on  the  jump  —  and  Judas ! 
That  girl  could  ride. 

Wes  looked  after  her,  rubbing  his  wet  hair  and  almost 
forgetting  his  headache.  "  Why  —  what  —  I'll  be  dog- 
gone !  "  he  says.  "I  —  I  wonder !  " 

And  he  went  back  to  his  post  holes  wondering  to  beat  the 
band. 

Two  weeks  from  that  the  shades  of  night  was  a-falling 
fast  on  old  man  Bodley's  cabin  and  all  round  the  neighbor- 
hood other  places.  The  chickens  was  already  on  their 
roosts  shifting  round  to  find  a  better  place  for  their  feet  and 
talking  about  it  in  low  tones.  The  old  black-and-white  cow 
was  bedded  down  over  the  corral  chewing  her  cud  and  a-lis- 
tening  calm  and  thoughtful  to  a  song  that  was  being  sung  — 
mostly  through  the  nose  —  by  somebody  inside  the  cabin. 
It  went  about  like  this: 


222       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

Oh,  Reuben,  Reuben,  he  come  with  his  carpet-bag 
And  a  wallet  of  dough  and  he  went  to  the  show, 

And  he  took  on  an  elegant  jag. 
He  woke  up  along  in  the  morning 

And  wept  when  he  found  he  was  broke 

And  a-holding  his  head,  which  was  heavy  as  lead, 

These  here  was  the  words  that  he  spoke : 

And  then  what  followed  on  —  with  a  patter  of  feet  danc- 
ing—  sounded  like: 

It  doesn't  do  to  trust  'em,  to  trust  'em,  to  trust  'em; 
It  doesn't  do  to  trust  'em,  for  they  only  want  your 

dough. 

Her  hair  was  gold,  her  eyes  was  blue, 
I  thought  that  she  was  fond  and  true. 

But  it  doesn't  do  to  trust  'em  when  they're  danc- 
ing at  a  show. 

Wes  rode  up  just  as  the  song  was  beginning  and  got  the 
first  of  it  as  he  was  walking  to  the  door.  He  stopped  and 
listened  and  then  started  to  go  back  to  his  horse,  but  he 
changed  his  mind  and  when  the  song  was  finished  he 
knocked.  For  just  a  few  seconds  there  was  scurrying 
sounds  and  then  somebody  hollers,  "  Come  in  if  you're  good 
looking,"  and  he  went  in  and  took  one  step  and  stood  a-star- 
ing. 

There  was  a  young  woman  a-setting  on  the  table  swing- 
ing a  pair  of  mighty  shapely  slim-ankled  legs  in  skin-tight 
shining  red  silk  stockings  and  a-clicking  the  high  heels  of 
her  little  red  leather  slippers  together.  She  was  a  dark- 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       223 

complected  young  woman,  with  her  black  har  heaped  up 
high  on  her  head  and  fastened  with  a  big  tortoise-shell 
comb  sparkling  with  rhinestones  with  a  black  lace  shawl 
thing  kind  of  hanging  from  it  and  falling  down  her  back. 
She  wore  a  big  red  paper  rose  stuck  in  her  hair  behind 
her  ear,  and  the  red  of  that  matched  what  was  on  her 
cheeks  and  lips.  Her  neck  and  throat  was  like  the  cream 
on  the  top  of  a  pan  of  milk  in  color  and  smoothness  and 
from  neck  and  throat  down  the  same — and  quite  a  con- 
siderable down.  Her  anus  was  bare  too,  and  between 
her  fingers  she  held  a  lighted  cigarette.  She  looked  at  Wes, 
her  red  mouth  smiling  and  her  eyes  looking  bigger  than 
what  they  were,  account  of  being  extra  blacked  round  the 
lashes.  It  may  have  been  that  that  made  them  look  extra 
bright. 

"  Hello,  old  stick-in-the-mud !  "  she  says.  "  Right  on 
time,  ain't  you?  If  you  hadn't  been  I  might  have  fooled 
you  and  gone  with  a  handsomer  man 

"  It  doesn't  do  to  trust  'em,  to  trust  'em,  to  trust  'em/' 

"Well?" 

"  Great  God !  "  says  Wes.     "  It's  Mary  Ann !  " 

"  Did  you  think  it  might  be  pa  ?  "  says  Mary  Ann.  "  I 
sent  pa  to  town  with  a  five-dollar  bill  and  free  permission. 
Pa  would  raise  hell  if  he  seen  me  in  these  stockings." 

She  stared  at  him  in  the  face  as  brassy  as  you  please 
and  kicked  out  one  ankle  at  him  while  she  blew  out  a  puff 
of  cigarette  smoke.  But  all  the  same,  the  color  got  deeper 
on  her  forehead  and  from  her  chin  down  —  where  it 
showed. 

"  Yes,  he'd  raise  hell,"  she  says.    "  What  are  you  gawp- 


224       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

ing  at  me  for  that-a-way,  you  reub  ?  I  said  he'd  raise  hell. 
Say,  Reuben,  don't  I  look  up-and-a-coming  ?  I  got  my 
lily  hooks  on  a  slab  of  dough  and  I  allowed  I'd  give  you  a 
surprise.  Want  a  drink  ?  I  got  it  —  the  good  old  stuff." 

By  this  time  you  couldn't  tell  the  rose  behind  her  ear  from 
the  ear  itself,  so  far  as  color  went.  But  she  kept  right  on. 

*'  I'm  Carmen,"  she  says.  "  I'll  bet  you  a  horse  that  I'll 
be  the  belle  of  the  ball  too.  Wait  till  the  boys  see  me ! 

"Why  don't  you  say  something?"  she  says.  "Old  cat 
got  your  tongue  again?  Tell  me  how  pretty  I  am;  tell  me 
that  you  didn't  know  there  was  anything  like  me  on  earth. 
Here  —  I'll  sing  a  song  and  do  a  dance  with  it." 

Then  Wes  spoke  up  and  his  face  was  as  white  as  hers 
was  red.  "  Ain't  you  got  no  shame  ? "  he  says  slow  and 
cold,  and  at  that  Mary  Ann  shivered  and  reached  out  one 
hand  to  pull  her  dress  down  —  and  took  it  back  again. 

"  Go  cover  yourself  up  decent,"  says  Wes  mighty  nigh 
shouting  it.  "  Go  cover  yourself,  and  thank  the  good  Lord 
that  it  was  only  me  seen  you.  If  anybody  else  had  I'd  have 
killed  him  —  and  you  too.  You  to  act  this-a-way  —  you, 
the  gal  I  —  I  thought " 

She  had  whipped  the  lace  scarf  from  the  comb  and 
throwed  and  pulled  it  tight  round  her  shoulders,  but  Wes 
turned  to  go.  His  hand  was  on  the  latch  of  the  door  when 
she  give  a  cry  that  stopped  him  in  his  tracks,  and  then  quick 
as  a  flash  she  had  him  by  the  arm  and  hid  her  face 
against  it. 

"  You  —  you  d-don't  like  me  this-a-way  and  you  don't 
1-1-like  me  that-a-way,"  she  sobbed.  "  Oh,  Wes,  tell  me 
which-a-way  you'd  like  me  to  b-be  and  I'll  b-be  it  1 " 

The  words  wasn't  hardly  out  of  her  mouth  before  Wes 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN       225 

had  both  of  his  arms  round  her,  squeezing  the  breath  out 
of  her  and  kissing  the  ear  that  had  the  rose  stuck  behind 
it  —  which  was  all  he  could  get  at. 

"  Gal,"  he  says,  shaking  all  over,  "  I  don't  like  you  no- 
ways, but  I  reckon  I  love  you  any  which-a-way  you  are.  I 
reckon  I  always  must  have,  honey  gal;  only  for  a  crazy 

spell  I  took  and Oh,  my  gal,  how  could  I!     Oh,  say 

anything,  do  anything!     I  cain't  help  but  love  you." 

A  little  while  after  that  Wes  led  her  horse  up  to  the 
door,  all  saddled  and  bridled,  and  knocked  again,  and  Mary 
Ann  let  him  in.  But  she  wasn't  wearing  the  old  calico  dress 
and  sunbonnet,  like  he'd  told  her,  nor  yet  the  Carmen  out- 
fit. Something  new  altogether  and  a  jacket  to  match  the 
long  riding  skirt,  and  a  wide-brim  hat  with  a  genuine  os- 
trich feather  in  it;  and  the  way  she  looked  it's  a  wonder 
that  Wes  ever  did  get  her  onto  the  old  sorrel ;  and  then  the 
way  they  rode  —  most  of  the  time  at  a  walk  and  Wes  scared 
to  death  she'd  fall  off  and  taking  the  proper  way  to  pre- 
vent it  —  it's  a  wonder  that  they  got  to  Pass  Creek  before 
the  dance  was  over.  But  there  was  a  heap  to  tell.  Mary 
Ann  had  to  tell  him  how  she'd  found  a  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  dollars'  worth  of  nuggets  down  by  the  creek  and  how 
she'd  gone  to  Rapid  and  sold  them  and  bought  her  pretties 
and  how  only  yesterday  she'd  staked  off  a  couple  of  claims 
there  on  Witch  —  one  for  him  alongside  hers. 

"It's  a  right  sightly  place,"  says  Wes.  "We'll  build 
our  house  there.  We  sure  will." 

Then  he  started  to  tell  her  about  Birdie,  but  Mary  Ann 
stopped  him  and  said  that  Gid  Spencer  had  kept  her  posted 
right  along,  and  Gid  was  terrible  grieved  that  Wes  was 


226       THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN 

misconducting  himself  in  spite  of  all  he  could  say  or  do  to 
head  him  off  into  the  straight  and  narrow  trail. 

"  You  ought  to  thank  Mr.  Spencer,  Wes  dear,"  she  says. 

"  I'll  give  him  —  thanks,"  says  Wes,  setting  his  jaw  hard. 
"  I  lay  I  give  him  a  thanking  he'll  remember." 

I  was  among  the  innocent  and  highly  entertained  specta- 
tors when  Wes  paid  his  debt  of  gratitude.  It  may  not  have 
been  full  payment,  but  Mr.  Spencer  was  more'n  satisfied  — 
a  heap  more.  He  wasn't  no  hog.  Of  course  there  was  a 
wedding,  but  it  wasn't  until  nearly  a  year  after  that,  account 
of  there  not  being  no  more  nuggets  found,  though  a  heap  of 
dirt  was  scratched  up  along  Witch.  It  was  just  a  pocket 
that  oughtn't  to  have  been  there  by  rights.  They  built  their 
house  right  on  the  knoll  though,  Dan  Scott  considering 
that  the  blamed  country  was  going  to  settle  up  anyway,  and 
that  Wes  might  as  well  have  his  pasture  as  anybody.  I 
reckon  Wes  is  right  prosperous  to-day. 

"  It  wasn't  Birdie  at  the  Jewel  all  the  same,"  insisted  the 
Circle  Bar  youth.  "  You  can't  get  me  to  believe  that  —  not 
if  you  took  your  oath  to  it.  I  wonder  what's  keeping  Billy 
with  them  dishes !  " 

Billy,  the  other  Circle  Bar  boy,  answered  that  in  person. 
He  came  forth  from  the  stage  barn  smacking  his  lips  loudly 
and  patting  himself  expressively.  "  Well,  I  found  out  what 
was  in  that  there  can,"  he  said.  "  It  was  licking  good. 
Pineapple." 

"  What ! "  ejaculated  the  stock  tender,  starting  up  from 
his  rawhide-seated  chair. 

"  Pineapple,"  repeated  Billy,  grinning.  "  Too  bad  that 
can  wasn't  large  enough  to  go  round.  It  was  a  plumb  sur- 


THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  MARY  ANN      227 

prise  to  me  when  I  got  it  opened  —  all  rusted  and  dirty  look- 
ing the  way  it  was.  But  mamma !  The  flavor.  Sweet  as 
sugar  and  yet  just  enough  tart  to  it  to  make  it  go  good.  A 
real  pleasant  surprise !  " 

"  I  said  that  can  somehow  reminded  me  of  Mary  Ann," 
said  the  old  bullwhacker. 


VI 
BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

A  LOWER  HORSEHEAD  granger  and  his  eighteen- 
year-old  son  were  enjoying  the  hospitality  of  the  Box 
Elder  stage  station  on  this  occasion.  They  had  just  tri- 
umphantly driven  into  the  station  corral  three  mares  and 
the  same  number  of  colts,  their  own  property,  recovered 
after  three  weeks'  absence  from  a  wonted  range  well  within 
the  borders  of  the  neighboring  Indian  reservation  and  in 
the  possession  of  a  somewhat  corroded  bronze  antique 
named  Yellow  Porcupine.  There  was  a  little  romance 
about  this,  which  the  granger  related  to  the  stock  tender  and 
his  crony,  the  old  bullwhacker,  as  he  ate. 

Mr.  Porcupine,  officially  questioned  had  answered  and 
proved  by  competent  witnesses  that  the  mares  had  .been  pre- 
sented to  him  in  accordance  with  tribal  custom  by  his  then 
prospective  and  very  recently  actual  son-in-law,  Joseph 
Comes-a-Running.  Joseph's  testimony  had  not  been  given, 
he  having  retired  before  the  advance  of  a  couple  of  Indian 
police  with  the  celerity  of  movement  that  had  obtained  for 
him  his  aboriginal  agnomen.  His  new  squaw,  nee  Porcu- 
pine, had  accompanied  him,  carrying  one  of  the  guns  and 
a  fair  share  of  the  ammunition.  They  had  left  a  hot  trail, 
but  the  two  dusky  constables  evidently  considered  it  too  hot 
to  be  picked  up  without  disagreeable  consequences,  and  so 

reported. 

228 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  229 

It  then  appeared  that  the  courtship  of  Joseph  Comes-a- 
Running  had  at  first  been  frowned  upon  by  the  head  of  the 
Porcupine  family,  who  had  no  ear  for  music,  and  who,  when 
Joseph  persisted  in  playing  his  lover's  flute  round  the  tepee, 
came  out  during  a  serenade  and  dragged  his  daughter  with- 
indoors by  one  of  her  braids.  He  then  informed  Joseph 
that  the  customary  present  of  ponies  would  have  to  be  made 
before  any  matrimonial  proposals  could  be  even  considered. 
Joseph  had  no  horses,  only  the  one  he  rode  and  needed  for 
his  own  use,  but  being  deeply  enamored  and  of  an  enterpris- 
ing disposition  he  reverted  to  the  practice  of  his  wild  free 
forefathers  and  when  the  moon  was  right  rode  down  to 
Lower  Horsehead  and  rustled  them.  All  objections  being 
thus  removed,  the  wedding  took  place,  the  granger  and  his 
son  arriving  just  at  the  end  of  the  festivities. 

"  I  told  the  agent,  John  Brennan,  that  as  far  as  I  was 
concerned  he  could  charge  Joe  and  Mrs.  Comes-a-Running 
up  to  profit  and  loss  on  the  agency  books,"  the  granger  con- 
cluded. "  I'd  got  my  horses  and  I  didn't  want  no  blood- 
shed nor  trouble  capturing  the  happy  pair.  I'd  been  young 
myself.  I  guess  John  took  the  same  view.  He's  got  a 
feeling  heart,  has  John,  and  he  wouldn't  bust  up  no  honey- 
moon, even  an  Injun  one.  An  all-round  man,  John  is.  I 
guess  he'll  let  'em  down  easy." 

The  stock  tender  emptied  a  second  panful  of  fried  bacon 
and  grease  into  the  stoneware  bowl  before  his  famished 
guests,  and  then  having  also  replenished  the  bread  plate 
and  pushed  the  potatoes  within  easy  reach  he  seated  him- 
self beside  the  old  bullwhacker  and  wiped  his  heated  brow. 

"  You  take  it  mighty  easy  yourself,"  he  observed.  "  I'd 
cinch  the  red  son  of  a  gun." 


230  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

The  granger  explained.  He  was  by  no  means  in  favor  of 
a  too  lenient  treatment  of  Indians  who  rustled  horses  from 
their  paleface  neighbors,  but  this  here  was  different.  This 
here  Joe  Comes-a-Running  was  a  right  clever  Injun.  He 
had  stopped  at  the  ranch  more  than  once  and  had  showed 
a  liberal  disposition  in  the  barter  of  certain  wakopomini 
truck  —  buffalo  robes  and  tanned  buckskin;  also  flour, 
which  might  or  might  not  have  been  government  flour.  He 
had  also  sold  the  granger  a  pony  or  two  at  a  reasonable 
price,  and  when  he  played  monte,  as  he  invariably  did,  he 
had  paid  his  losses  like  a  dead  game  sport  and  a  gentleman. 
Yes,  sir! 

"And  I  reckon  maybe  he  knew  I'd  guess  where  them 
mares  had  got  to  and  would  come  after  them,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  knowing  I  knew  the  circumstances.  He  may  have 
allowed  in  his  simple  untutored  mind  that  he  was  just  a-bor- 
rowing  them  from  me. 

"  Me,  I'm  like  Gid  here  and  John  Brennan,"  said  the  old 
bullwhacker.  "  I've  got  a  feeling  heart  and  there  ain't 
nothing  it  feels  for  more  than  a  young  fellow  sparking  a 
girl  whose  parents  regards  her  in  the  light  of  an  investment. 
Old  Dave  Pirbright  told  me  once  that  he'd  raised  children 
and  he'd  raised  hogs  —  and  there  was  a  darned  sight  more 
money  in  hogs.  I  claim  that  ain't  no  way  to  look  at  it  — 
and  Dave  lied.  Take  his  girl  Abilene,  for  instance.  Hank, 
how  much  do  you  reckon  Abilene  Pirbright  netted  the  old 
man,  from  the  age  of  sixteen  to  twenty  —  counting  day's 
wages  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  and  not  including  the  eating  to- 
bacco and  sundries  that  he  got  throwed  in  ?  " 

He  addressed  himself  to  the  stock  tender,  who  considered 
the  question  thoughtfully  for  some  moments  and  then  re- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  231 

plied  that  he  didn't  know  Abilene  and  wasn't  acquainted 
with  nobody  of  the  name  of  Pirbright,  in  view  of  which  he 
wasn't  issuing  no  estimates  nor  statistics  on  such  matters. 
Whereupon  the  bullwhacker  resumed  his  narrative: 

'Twould  have  bought  a  right  smart  drove  of  hogs,  any- 
way. And  Abilene  was  just  one.  There  was  Eudora  and 
Sacora  and  Magdalena  and  Belle,  besides  her,  and  then 
there  was  the  boys :  young  Dave,  Mitchell,  Crawford,  Bill 
and  Valentine.  I  own  up  them  boys  wasn't  no  bonanza, 
but  most  boys  ain't.  Yes,  sir,  gentlemen,  old  Dave  wasn't 
lying  when  he  said  he'd  raised  children.  He  had  raised 
them  all  over  Texas  and  New  Mexico  and  Nebraska  before 
ever  he  struck  Dakota  and  he  named  them  mostly  after 
places  he'd  been  at.  He  had  them  all  with  him  at  his  ranch 
in  the  Pass  Creek  Valley,  all  but  Belle  and  Sacora  and  a 
few  he'd  shed  here  and  there.  Belle  married  Tracy  O'Neill, 
a  young  lawyer  in  Blueblanket,  and  Sacora  was  wooed  and 
won  by  Pete  Kellogg,  who  used  to  ride  for  the  Circle  Bar 
when  Lou  Green  run  it.  Pete  took  up  a  homestead  in  the 
valley  alongside  of  the  old  man's  —  and  lived  to  regret  it. 
But  it  was  sure  convenient  for  Dave. 

In  them  days  I  was  proprietor  of  Hunt's  old  livery  in 
Blueblanket,  and  like  it  always  was  wherever  I've  been  my 
society  and  my  advice  was  a  considerable  sought  after. 
Besides  the  prominent  citizens  of  Blueblanket,  there  was 
the  boys  that  rode  in  from  the  ranches  seeking  innocent 
recreation,  who  would  always  linger  a  spell  if  I  happened 
to  be  in  the  mood  for  talking.  Simple  as  what  their  lives 
was,  they  had  their  little  problems  that  needed  the  voice  of 
experience  to  settle  and  I  never  held  out  on  them.  One 


232  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

young  man  took  a  particular  shine  to  me,  by  name  of  Benja- 
min Franklin  Tucker,  working  for  the  Lazy  X  then.  He 
was  a  right  nice  boy  —  good-looking,  able-bodied  and  cheer- 
ful, with  a  sensible  streak  in  him,  which  ain't  common. 
One  time  when  the  Lazy  X  boys  got  paid  off  he  trailed 
along  with  them  same  as  usual,  but  after  he'd  left  his  horse 
and  gun  with  me  according  to  custom  he  pulled  out  his 
wallet  and  asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  take  charge  of  that  too. 

"  A  man  told  me  a  right  curious  thing  the  other  day,"  he 
says.  "  He  allowed  that  if  you  didn't  have  no  money  you 
wasn't  not  nearly  so  apt  to  spend  it  foolishly.  Seemed  to 
me  that  sounded  mighty  reasonable  when  I  come  to  think 
it  over.  What's  your  opinion,  Mr.  Stegg?" 

I  told  him  that  according  to  my  experience  it  was  true 
talk.  The  only  other  way  I  knew  to  keep  from  prodigal 
disbursements  was  to  be  where  there  was  nothing  to  buy, 
contrary  to  Blueblanket  and  similar  to  Sahara. 

"  I  believe  it,"  says  he,  "  which  being  thus,  I  have  held 
out  what  I  deem  to  be  all  I  need  for  to  revel  on  in  a  mod- 
erate way,  drinking  only  one  glass  at  a  time  and  stringing 
the  time  out.  I've  also  allowed  myself  a  couple  of  cases  to 
toss  carelessly  on  some  number  that  appeals  to  me.  If  I'm 
lucky  them  two  cases  will  increase  and  multiply  and  by 
staying  with  the  game  a  little  longer  I  win  as  much  as  if  I 
had  started  with  a  hundred.  An  hour  or  so  pleasantly  occu- 
pied won't  make  no  particular  difference.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  I  lose  I  wouldn't  get  no  more  satisfaction  if  it  was 
more  than  two  dollars  that  I  lose  —  and  the  agony  wouldn't 
be  prolonged.  Does  that  sound  like  good  hard  horse  sense 
to  you,  or  does  it  impress  you  as  the  mad  ravings  of 
delirium  ? " 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  283 

"  Babes  and  sucklings  couldn't  improve  on  that  for  a 
scheme,"  I  told  him,  and  he  went  away  satisfied  and  didn't 
come  back  until  a  little  past  eleven.  I  had  shut  the  doors 
and  put  the  bar  up,  so  I  let  him  pound  and  holler  until  the 
window  pane  in  the  side  office  where  I  slept  fell  in  on  me 
in  several  pieces.  Then  I  got  up.  It  was  him  that  was 
a-laughing,  not  me. 

"  I  thought  that  would  wake  you,"  he  says,  laughing 
heartier  than  ever  as  I  showed  my  face  at  the  broken  win- 
dow. "  I  just  naturally  figured  that  you  would  hear  that 
and  wonder  what  it  was  and  get  up  to  see." 

"  You've  got  a  wonderful  mind  and  you  sure  figured  it 
out  to  a  dot,"  I  says.  "  I  reckon  you  done  some  calculating 
on  my  meek  and  patient  disposition,  too,  but  if  you  don't 
quit  that  braying  and  move  away  from  here  I'll  open  the 
door  and  show  you  just  where  you've  got  your  figures 
wrong." 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  in  that  unkind  way  or  you'll  make  me 
cry,"  says  he.  "  Heaven  is  my  witness,  I  feel  bad  enough 
as  it  is,  having  to  disaccommodate  you  this-a-way,  but  the 
fact  is  I've  got  a  pressing  need  of  that  money  I  left  with 
you  this  evening.  If  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  hand  it  out  to 
me  through  the  window,  taking  care  not  to  cut  yourself 
on  the  broken  glass,  I'll  go  away  and  not  pester  you  no 
more." 

I  told  him  there  was  an  automatic  time  lock  on  the  safe 
and  it  wouldn't  open  for  nothing  but  dynamite  until  six 
o'clock  A.  M.  He  studied  on  that  a  minute  or  two  and  then 
asked  where  a  man  could  skirmish  round  and  get  a  little 
dynamite.  I  told  him  where  to  go  to,  but  he  seen  objections 
to  going  there.  He  was  a-suffering  bad  enough  with  his 


234  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

thirst  here  and  now  and  he  had  heard  tell  that  you  couldn't 
even  get  water  in  them  lower  regions. 

"  I'm  a-going  to  hang  on  to  that  trust  fund  anyway,"  I 
says  gentle  but  real  firm.  "  I  agreed  so  to  do,"  I  says,  "  and 
I'm  a  man  that  sticks  to  his  agreement  —  and  I  know  that 
you  are  too,  Benny.  I've  got  too  good  an  opinion  of  you  to 
think  otherwise.  I  know  the  strength  of  mind  you've  got, 
drunk  or  sober,  and  while  you  may  be  sore  tempted  to 
blow  all  them  easy-earned  wages  in  righteous  living  you'd 
let  your  parched  tongue  cleave  to  the  bosom  of  your  shirt 
afore  you'd  give  in.  You'd  scorn  to  go  back  on  your  word. 
You're  too  much  of  a  man,  too  much  of  a  high-toned  gen- 
tleman, too  much  of  a  dead-game  sport,  too  square,  too 
honest,  too  sensible." 

"  That's  right,"  he  says.  "  That's  me.  If  you  put  just 
that  description  on  a  bill  and  offered  a  small  reward  for  my 
apprehension  you  wouldn't  need  no  name  nor  no  aliases. 
Anybody  who  was  acquainted  with  my  character  would 
arrest  me  on  sight.  But,  Mr.  Stegg,  sir,  I  don't  aim  to 
spend  all  that  money.  No,  indeedy !  Just  one  teenty  tinety 
drink  and  I'll  tell  the  boys  good  night." 

"  How  many  of  the  boys  are  they  ?  "  I  asked  him,  and  he 
told  me  that  there  was  two  of  each  and  the  two  Mike 
Morans  behind  the  bar  the  last  time  he  looked  at  them.  I 
told  him  that  with  drinks  two  for  two  bits  a  dollar  would 
cover  the  duplicate  crowd,  for  which  I  would  loan  him  a 
dollar  from  my  own  private  purse.  After  thinking  that 
over  for  a  spell  he  agreed  it  was  a  fair  proposition  and  took 
the  dollar  and  went  away. 

It  was  a  couple  of  hours  before  I  heard  him  outside  the 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  235 

window  again,  singing  that  the  horn  of  the  hunter  was 
heard  on  the  hill  and  the  lark  from  her  light  wing  the  bright 
dew  was  shaking  and  did  I  slumbrest  me  still  and  a  mess  of 
stuff  like  that.  When  he  found  I'd  quit  slumbering  he  told 
me  that  he  wanted  that  money  he'd  intrusted  me  with  and 
wanted  it  with  interest  to  date  and  no  foolishness,  if  it 
wasn't  troubling  me  too  much.  Then  he  said  that  he  had 
started  to  make  his  application  earlier  in  the  evening,  but 
on  the  way  from  Mike's  he  had  sat  down  to  rest  and  must 
have  closed  his  eyes  for  a  minute  or  two,  because  the  first 
he  knew  a  cow  was  a-licking  one  of  his  ears  and  he  noticed 
that  his  other  ear  was  on  the  ground. 

Well,  it  was  the  same  thing  over  again.  I  finally  got 
him  to  take  another  dollar  and  he  went  away  singing  about 
Bob  Ford,  the  dirty  coward,  who  shot  Mr.  Howard  and 
laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave.  He  might  have  stopped  on 
his  way  back  to  rest  again  or  he  might  have  got  safely  to 
Mike's  with  his  dollar  and  squandered  it,  but  whatever,  I 
didn't  see  no  more  of  him  until  near  noon  the  next  day, 
when  he  come  into  the  stable  accompanied  by  old  man 
R.  E.  Morse. 

"If  you  don't  feel  no  better  than  you  look  I'm  right  sorry 
for  you,  Benny,"  I  says  pityingly. 

"  If  I  looked  like  I  feel  you'd  have  screamed  at  the  sight 
of  me  and  run  and  hid,"  he  says.  "  Mr.  Stegg,"  says  he, 
"  I  ain't  got  no  clear  untrammeled  recollections  of  the  trans- 
pirations of  the  night,  no  more'n  I  must  have  let  my  so- 
ciable nature  get  away  with  my  temperance  principles,  but  I 
seem  to  call  to  mind  that  I  made  a  few  unseasonable  visits 
on  you  and  probably  misconducted  myself  in  some  way. 


236  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

I'd  like  to  set  some  place  where  a  cool  breeze  will  hit  my 
hot  blushes  and  have  you  tell  the  story  of  my  shame,  if  you 
don't  mind,  sir." 

I  upended  a  bucket  in  the  doorway  alongside  of  my  chair 
for  him  to  set  on  and  I  related  his  misdoings  to  him  then 
and  there.  If  he  blushed  his  boots  hid  it,  but  he  looked 
real  sorry  until  I  told  him  that  I'd  got  his  money  for  him 
intack,  excepting  for  deductions  for  damages  and  cash 
advanced. 

*'  It's  more  than  I  deserve,"  he  says.  *'  Far,  far  more 
than  I  deserve  and  a  heap  more  than  I  expected.  I  had  a 
haunting  fear  that  I  had  blowed  the  whole  pile,  and  here  I 
am,  eased  back  only  a  couple  of  cases  and  the  price  of  a 
measly  little  window,  and  the  way  clear  before  me  to  the 
cattle  on  a  thousand  hills,  to  say  nothing  of  them  that  may 
stray  into  the  gulches,  and  only  referring  to  a  lovely  and 
accomplished  wife  and  a  large  and  interesting  family  of 
assorted  sexes.  All  this  I  owe  to  your  friendly  firmness, 
Mr.  Stegg,  sir,  and  I'll  never  forget  it.  When  in  the  days 
to  come  you  grow  old  and  feeble  and  unequal  to  hard  labor 
there  will  always  be  a  warm  corner  for  you  by  my  kitchen 
fire  —  if  you  can  get  along  with  the  help  —  and  probably 
a  little  better  quality  of  grub  than  you  have  ever  been  used 
to.  Of  course  if  you  feel  you'd  be  more  independent  doing 
a  few  light  chores  round  the  place  to  sort  of  help  pay  for 
your  board  I  wouldn't  want  to  stand  in  the  way  of  your 
doing  it,  but  I  wouldn't  ever  require  it  of  you,  unless  there 
was  an  extra  rush  of  work.  No,  sir!  You  can  bank  on 
Benjamin  Franklin  Tucker's  gratitude  every  time." 

"  Thanks,  Benny,"  I  says.  "  That's  a  great  load  off  my 
mind,"  I  says.  "  So  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  quit  hell- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  237 

ing  round  and  to  settle  down  and  get  rich.  It's  a  pious  idea. 
Would  I  seem  anyways  sort  of  nosey  if  I  made  bold  to  in- 
quire how  come  this  turning  point  in  your  young  life  and 
who  the  fortunate  young  lady  is  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  tell  nobody  but  you  at  this  stage  of  the 
game  and  then  only  in  strict  confidence,"  he  says.  "  Be- 
cause," says  he,  "  the  matter  ain't  technically  settled  yet, 
the  young  lady  not  knowing  the  happiness  what  is  in  store 
for  her,  so  far  only  may  be  suspicioning  it  and  hoping 
for  it.  But  I  aim  to  take  her  into  my  confidence  before  many 
moons  and  either  carry  out  my  program  or  bust  several 
hame  straps.  It  come  this-a-way:  I  was  over  in  the  Pass 
Creek  Valley  the  day  before  yesterday  at  a  little  before  noon 

and  as  I  happened  to  be  sort  of  dry That  reminds  me. 

Where  do  you  keep  your  drinking  water,  Mr.  Stegg,  if  you 
please,  thank  you  kindly  ?  " 

I  told  him  where  he  would  find  the  full  bucket  I'd  just 
brought  in  and  where  was  the  well,  only  I'd  thank  him  to 
go  light  on  the  well,  account  of  having  a  considerable  stock 
to  water  in  the  next  three  weeks.  He  said  he'd  bear  that 
in  mind  and  conduct  himself  with  moderation,  and  I  don't 
reckon  he  did  take  in  more  than  two  or  three  gallons. 

"If  for  me  the  cup  you  fill,  oh,  fill  it  from  the  sparkling 
rill,"  he  says  when  he  come  back.  "  I  don't  see  why  water 
ain't  good  enough  for  anybody,"  he  continues,  "  and  why 
folks  don't  use  it  more.  Did  you  ever  try  it  as  a  beverage  ?  " 

"  Continue  your  story,"  I  says.  "  You  was  dry  and  you 
turned  in  to  Pirbright's  ranch  to  get  you  a  drink  of  your 
favorite  liquefaction  and  Miss  Eudora " 

"  Wrong,"  says  he. 

"  Miss  Magdalena " 


238  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  One  more  guess,"  says  he. 

"  Miss  Abilene  brung  you  the  sparkling  cup  and  as  soon 
as  you  seen  her  ravaging  liniments,  says  you  to  yourself. 
'  Here's  where  I  start  saving  my  wages.' " 

"  There  ain't  no  need  of  telling  you  nothing,"  he  says. 
"You  was  probably  hid  behind  the  door.  But  there's  an 
elegant  young  lady,  Mr.  Stegg." 

I  told  him  that  was  the  impression  she'd  give  me  and  that 
speaking  roughly  I  should  say  she  was  a  little  daisy  and 
real  intelligent  and  sweet  dispositioned. 

"And  George  Washington  give  the  impression  of  being 
a  tolerable  good  sort  of  a  general  and  was  well  behaved  and 
had  a  reputation  for  truth  and  veracity,"  says  Benny  scorn- 
fully. "  Speaking  roughly,  it's  broad  daylight  when  the  sun 
is  shining  in  a  clear  sky  at  noon,  ain't  it?  Or  is  your  im- 
pressions to  the  contrary  ?  "  he  says. 

"Well,  you  write  down  what  you  think  she  is  and  I'll 
sign  it,"  I  told  him.  "Also  put  down  that  old  man  Pir- 
bright  is  one  of  Nature's  high-toned  noblemen  and  the  boys 
is  what  you  would  call  the  flowers  of  all  manly  virtues  and 
the  moldings  of  fashion  and  the  glasses  of  form  and  bright 
and  shining  examples  and  pattern^  for  all  who  would  be 
what  they  are.  I  know  them  words  may  seem  poor  and 
cold  to  you,  but  you  fix  'em  the  way  you  want  to  suit 
yourself." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  took  particular  notice  of  the  rest  of 
the  family,"  says  Benny.  "  But  they  seemed  to  be  all  right. 
It's  a  large  family,  but  I  like  large  families,  and  I  aim  to 
have  one  of  that  kind  myself.  Mr.  Pirbright  certainly 
seemed  like  he  give  the  impression  of  being  a  whole-souled 
genial  old  cuss,  but  I  ain't  proposing  to  take  him  to  my 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  239 

bosom.  It's  Abilene  I'm  after.  I  ain't  marrying  the  whole 
family." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  I  says.  "  Why,  that's  so,  sure 
enough!  It's  just  the  lady  that  your  matrimonial  intentions 
is  concerning  of  naturally.  Of  course!  Shucks!  I  guess 
I'm  getting  sort  of  dumb  and  slow-witted.  You  ain't  mar- 
rying the  whole  family  —  certainly  not.  Consequently  the 
rest  of  the  family  don't  cut  no  figure  whatsoever.  By  the 
way,  Benny,  you  ain't  acquainted  with  Attorney-at-law 
Tracy  O'Neill,  are  you  ?  " 

"No,"  he  says.     "Why?" 

"  No  reason,  only  that  he's  a  right  nice  young  man  and 
a  powerful  good  talker,"  I  says.  "  I  allowed  you  might 
know  him.  You  didn't  get  dry  a  little  piece  on  from  Pir- 
bright's  and  meet  up  with  Pete  Kellogg,  did  you  ?  " 

"I  seen  a  fellow  of  that  name  at  the  round-up  last  fall, 
but  I  didn't  get  acquainted  with  him,"  says  Benny. 
"  Sawed-off  little  runt  with  a  twisted  nose  and  the  half  of 
one  ear  missing,  ain't  he?  Has  he  got  a  ranch  on  Pass 
Creek?" 

"  Right  close  to  Pirbright's,"  I  told  him.  "  You  ought  to 
get  acquainted  with  Pete,"  I  says.  "  You'd  enjoy  his  con- 
versation." 

"  I  might  if  he  comes  out  with  whatever  happens  to  be 
on  his  mind  and  doesn't  set  round  grinning  like  an  old  fool 
and  hinting  and  beating  about  the  bush,"  says  Benny.  "  I'll 
tell  you  one  thing,"  he  says,  "  I  ain't  no  ways  disturbed  in 
my  mind  about  Mr.  Kellogg.  The  closer  he  lives  to  Pir- 
bright's and  the  oftener  he  calls  the  poorer  his  chances 
would  be  with  Abilene  or  any  other  lady  of  good  taste. 
I  tell  you  I  seen  him.  And  as  for  this  Mr.  Tracy 


240  BENNY  AND  HER  PAMILEE 

O'Neill,  I'm  modest,  but  I'll  back  myself  to  outtalk  any 
dog-gone  lawyer  in  the  kind  of  talk  that  counts  with  a  girl. 
I  don't  say  I  ever  done  it,  but  I  know  I  could,  and  I  don't 
feel  no  tremulations  whatsoever  regarding  either  of  the 
gentlemen." 

"  No  reason  why  you  should,"  I  told  him.  "  Tracy  and 
Pete  is  both  of  them  respectable  married  men  and  living 
with  their  still-surviving  wives.  I  just  thought  you'd  find 
them  both  congenial  companions  if  you  knew  them  —  which 
you  probably  will." 

He  looked  at  me  for  a  minute  or  two  and  then  allowed 
he'd  got  an  engagement  with  some  yearlings  that  he  intended 
to  purchase  with  the  money  I'd  preserved  for  him. 

"  So  I'll  take  one  more  drink  on  you  to  show  there's  no 
ill  feeling,"  says  he,  "  and  then  I'll  light  out  and  start  the 
beginnings  of  the  notorious  Benjamin  F.  Tucker  beef 
monopoly.  You  make  a  note  of  this  here  day.  It's  a-going 
to  be  a  momentous  one  in  the  thrilling  annuals  of  the  West. 
Where  did  you  cache  my  saddle  ?  " 

About  a  week  after  that  I  got  a  chance  to  refresh  my 
memory  in  regards  to  Miss  Abilene  Pirbright.  I  didn't 
know  her  at  first,  only  that  she  was  a  Pirbright,  them  girls 
being  tolerable  close  together  in  their  ages  and  liable  to 
get  mixed  in  a  man's  mind  if  he  didn't  have  no  particular 
and  special  interest  and  hadn't  been  a  regular  visitor.  And 
yet  as  she  sat  on  the  spring  seat  of  Dave  Pirbright's  wagon 
acrost  the  street  from  where  I  was  resting  from  my  toil 
I  could  see  even  at  that  distance  that  she  was  a  little  extra 
for  looks  and  up  and  down  and  all  round  about  the  pleas- 
antest  thing  on  Main  Street  for  a  man  to  look  at,  which  be- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  241 

ing  the  case  I  kept  right  on  looking  at  her  and  I  took  notice 
that  she  seemed  uneasy  in  her  mind,  turning  her  head  this- 
a-way  and  that-a-way  like  she  was  expecting  of  somebody 
and  wasn't  any  too  well  pleased  about  it.  Finally  she  clumb 
down  out  of  the  wagon  and  that  was  an  interesting  specta- 
cle too  and  didn't  show  nothing  that  didn't  reflect  credit  on 
her,  so  to  speak.  For  about  five  minutes  she  looked  in  at 
Miss  McArdle's  milliner-store  window,  after  which  she 
stomped  her  foot  and  walked  back  to  the  wagon.  I  started 
acrost  the  street  thinking  I  might  help  her  in,  but  she 
beat  me  by  about  three  seconds. 

"  Waiting  for  father,  dear  father,  Miss  Pirbright  ? "  I 
asked  her. 

She  gave  me  a  smile  that  made  me  appreciate  Benny 
Tucker's  references  to  George  Washington. 

"  Howdy,  Mr.  Stegg,"  she  says.  "  Yes,  Miss  Pir- 
bright is  a-waiting  for  father,  dear  father,  and  Abilene's 
good  and  tired  of  waiting.  You  must  have  forgot  my 
name." 

"  You've  growed  a  considerable,  Abilene,"  I  says. 

"  I  must  have  growed  two  inches  since  pa  went  to  see 
a  man  in  at  Moran's  and  told  me  he'd  be  back  in  a  couple 
of  minutes,"  says  she.  ''  I  reckon  I'll  get  gray  haired  and 
stoop  shouldered  afore  he  comes  out.  See  any  gray  hairs  ?  " 

She  brushed  back  some  of  the  little  curls  under  her  hat 
and  looked  at  me  mighty  sassy  and  sweet.  It  was  a  straw 
hat  with  a  wide  brim  trimmed  up  with  cherries  and  ears  of 
wheat  and  her  hair  was  about  the  color  of  the  wheat,  only 
with  more  shine  to  it.  And  I'll  mention  that  offered  the 
choice  between  cherries  and  Abilene's.  lips  I  know  which 
I'd  have  took  and  given  some  boot, 


242  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  No  silver  threads  there  yet,"  says  I. 

"  I've  been  worrying  a  heap  too,"  she  says  —  "  wonder- 
ing why  you  never  come  to  see  us  no  more.  I'm  mad  at 
you!  And  then  calling  me  Miss  Pirbright  and  setting 
acrost  the  street  like  a  bump  on  a  log  and  never  coming 
near !  Why  ain't  you  never  been  up  to  the  valley  ?  " 

"  I've  got  a  heap  of  work  on  my  hands  here." 

"  You  could  have  a  heap  of  work  on  your  hands  there," 
she  answered.  "  Pa  would  find  something  for  you  to  do,  I 
reckon,  if  that's  all  that's  been  keeping  you  away.  He  can 
most  generally  scare  up  some  little  chore  for  our  boy 
visitors." 

"  But  I  ain't  no  boy,  sweetheart,"  I  says. 

"  Huh !  I  don't  know  so  much  about  that,"  says  she. 
"  But  if  you  ain't  I'm  glad  of  it.  I'm  good  and  sick  of 
these  awful  young  boys.  Give  me  a  real  grown  man  that's 
got  some  sense." 

I  told  her  I'd  look  round  careful  and  see  what  I  could 
find  for  her,  and  then  I  asked  her  if  she  thought  Benjamin 
Franklin  Tucker  would  come  anywheres  near  her  notion, 
and  she  allowed  that  Benny  had  less  sense  than  any  of 
them. 

"  I  like  whiskers  on  a  man,"  says  she,  looking  hard  at 
mine,  which  I  kept  trimmed  up  kind  of  neat  with  the  horse 
clippers  in  them  days. 

"  But  I  wish  pa  would  come,"  she  says,  her  sassy  look 
fading  out.  "  I  know  you  don't  like  to  go  into  them  places, 
Mr.  Stegg,"  she  says,  "  but  just  to  please  me,  if  you'd  go 
into  Moran's  and  drag  him  out  by  the  ear  I'd  never  stop 
loving  you.  Tell  him  that  the  clock  in  the  steeple  is 
a-striking  twelve  and  if  he  ain't  here  to  go  home  with  me 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  24$ 

by  the  time  it  quits  striking  I'm  a-going  to  drive  this  team 
back  to  sister  Belle's  and  he'll  have  some  walking  to  do." 

I  took  notice  that  she  had  a  considerable  of  a  chin  on  her 
when  she  pressed  her  lips  together  and  stuck  it  out.  It  was 
a  nice  chin,  well  rounded  and  as  pretty  as  it  could  be,  but 
it  wasn't  undersize. 

"I'll  bring  him,  dead  or  alive,"  I  says.  "Just  wait  a 
minute  or  two  longer." 

Overcoming  my  well-known  dislike  of  entering  into  places 
where  liquor  is  dispensed  in  vinous  and  malt  quantities,  I 
sauntered  into  Mike  Moran's  and  there  was  Pa  Pirbright 
—  big,  red- faced,  curly  whiskered  pa  —  leaning  with 
one  arm  on  the  bar  and  in  the  act  of  pouring.  Along- 
side of  him  was  Bert  Herndon  and  Johnny  Root,  two  of 
the  Bar  T.  boys,  and  Johnny  was  in  the  act  of  gathering 
up  his  change. 

"  All  the  same,  it's  a-going  to  be  my  turn  next  time,"  says 
pa.  "  I  can  accept  of  a  gentleman's  hospitality  as  free  and 
willing  as  the  next  man,  but  there  had  ought  to  be  a  limit 
and  you  two  boys  hadn't  ought  to  be  setting  'em  up  all  day 
long  without  no  interruption  on  my  part.  Ain't  right." 

Then  he  seen  me  and  bellered  out  a  invite  to  line  up, 
which  —  being  as  Johnny  Root  seconded  the  motion  —  I 
accepted. 

"  Here's  Mr.  Pirbright's  very  good  health,"  says  Johnny. 

"  And  his  family's  very  good  health,"  says  Bert.  "  Mr. 
Pirbright,  may  you  live  long  and  die  easy  and  happy  and 
with  no  compulsion  about  it !  My  respects  to  you,  sir." 

"  Drink  hearty,  gentlemen  both,"  says  pa,  beaming  at 
them.  "  I  mean  gentlemen  all,"  he  says,  catching  my  eye. 
"  I  want  to  say  that  you  are  both  —  all  of  you  —  welcome 


244-  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

at  my  house  night  or  day  at  any  hour  or  minute.  And  the 
womenfolks  is  all  of  'em  of  my  mind  and  feel  like  I  do." 

"  Now  this  next  time  it's  a-going  to  be  on  me,"  says  Bert. 

"  The  last  wasn't  done  properly  to  suit  me,  so  it's  got 
to  be  done  over  again  —  on  me,"  says  Johnny. 

"  It  ought  by  rights  to  be  on  me,"  says  Pirbright.  "  Hon- 
est, boys,  you  ought  to  give  me  a  chance  oncet,  don't  you 
reckon  you  ought  ?  " 

"  Not  by  no  means,"  says  Johnny. 

"  We  don't  get  Mr.  Pirbright  in  town  every  day  in  the 
week,"  says  Bert.  "  Your  money  ain't  good  here,  Mr.  Pir- 
bright. Not  while  I'm  round." 

"  Nor  while  I'm  round/'  says  Johnny. 

"  Gentlemen,"  says  I,  "  I'm  like  the  Irishman.  I  hate 
to  have  to  say  anything  that  would  disturb  the  hi-larity  of 
the  occasion,  but  I've  got  a  little  private,  pressing  and  par- 
ticular business  outside  with  Mr.  Pirbright,  our  loved  and 
honored  guest,  which  business  can't  be  put  off  without  in- 
convenience to  him  resulting." 

Pa  Pirbright  said  that  we  was  all  friends  here  and  what 
was  the  business  anyway,  so  I  told  him  that  Miss  Abilene 
was  a-waiting  near  by  outside  and  I  had  orders  to  see  that 
he  didn't  keep  her  a-waiting  no  longer.  I'd  no  sooner  said 
that  than  Johnny  and  Bert  made  a  break  for  the  back  door 
and  disappeared. 

"  Well ! "  says  Pirbright,  looking  after  them  with  his 
mouth  open.  "  What  do  you  think  of  that?  Well!" 

"  I  was  just  a-going  to  set  up  a  round,"  he  says,  "  and 
now  they're  gone  I  can't.  Too  bad!  They're  right  nice 
boys,  them  two.  They  come  to  see  me  at  the  ranch  a  whole 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  245 

lot  and  there's  always  a  good  meal  of  vittles  set  out  for 
them,  and  a  welcome.  Yes,  they  think  a  heap  of  me  and 
so  they  ought.  If  you  seen  my  grocery  bills " 

"  Abilene's  a-waiting  for  you,"  I  says. 

"  There  ain't  no  rush,"  says  he.  "  You're  always  wel- 
come, too,  Stegg.  And  I  know  the  womenfolks  will  always 
be  tickled  to  death  to  see  you." 

"  One  of  them  will  be  tickled  to  death  to  see  you  right 
away,"  I  told  him. 

He  looked  sadly  and  lingering  at  Mike's  wooden  face  and 
then  said  he  supposed  if  Abilene  was  waiting  he'd  better 
go.  So  he  went,  but  when  we  looked  where  the  wagon 
had  been  it  wasn't  there.  Just  about  the  same  time  Bert 
Herndon  and  Johnny  Root  come  round  the  corner  trying 
to  look  as  if  they  had  just  got  into  town.  Pirbright  hollered 
to  them,  but  they  shook  their  heads  and  passed  on. 

"  You'll  find  her  at  Mrs.  O'Neill's,  I  reckon,"  I  told  the  old 
man.  "  She  said  she  was  going  there  if  you  didn't  arrive 
middling  prompt.  Half  a  mile  ain't  much  to  a  good  walker 
like  you." 

Saying  which,  I  went  back  to  the  livery  and  took  up  my 
weary  round  of  toil. 

I  reckon  it  was  a  month  after  that  before  Benny  Tucker 
came  into  town  again.  I  told  him  he  was  a-looking  well, 
and  he  said  right  away  that  either  my  eyesight  was  a-fail- 
ing  me  or  I  had  a  little  favor  to  ask  him. 

"  I've  lost  all  of  twenty  pounds  since  I  last  seen  you," 
he  says.  "  I'm  a-getting  so  I'll  have  to  pack  rocks  in  my 
pockets  to  keep  from  blowing  away  if  I  keep  on  the  way 


246  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

I'm  doing.  Look  at  these  here  hollow  cheeks  of  mine! 
See  where  I'm  buckling  my  belt  to  —  and  then  tell  me  I'm 
looking  well !  " 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  says.  "  I  thought  maybe  you  might  be 
sort  of  sensitive  about  it  and  wouldn't  want  folks  remark- 
ing too  candid.  I  know  I  was  that-a-way.  One  time  I 
got  right  down  to  skin  and  bone  under  the  same  circum- 
stances—  when  I  was  a  heap  younger.  I  didn't  look  for 
nothing  but  an  early  grave  and  I  didn't  want  nothing  else 
either.  There  was  a  week  at  a  spell  that  the  sight  of  a  pan 
of  pork  and  beans  browned  on  top  and  smoking  hot  didn't 
excite  no  more  cravings  in  me  than  nothing  at  all.  You 
could  have  pushed  fried  spring  chicken  and  milk  gravy  at 
me  and  I  would  have  shuddered  and  waved  it  aside  like  it 
was  fricasseed  buzzard.  These  here  pangs  of  unrequieted 
love  is  sure  hard  on  a  man's  appetite." 

"  Maybe  they  are,"  says  he.  "  I'll  take  your  word  for 
it,  not  having  been  afflicted  that-a-way  myself  ever.  I'm 
eating  hearty  and  I  don't  want  no  grave,  early  or  late,  until 
I  get  good  and  ready  for  it  in  the  undertaker's  opinion. 
No,  sir.  It's  hard  manual  labor  that's  a-pulling  me  down 
to  the  featherweight  class. 

"  But  I  like  it,"  he  says.  "  It's  sure  good  for  a  man. 
You  get  all  soft  and  fleshy,  laying  abed  until  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  and  doing  nothing  the  balance  of  the  day 
but  ride  a  hundred  miles  or  so  and  wrastle  a  few  contrary 
cow  critters  and  obstropolous  cayuses  and  such  like.  What 
you  need  to  keep  in  good  condition  is  to  take  a  few  hours 
extra  in  spare  time  and  go  visit  some  little  hive  of  industry 
like  Pirbright's  and  not  be  made  no  stranger  of.  Look  at 
my  hands ! " 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  247 

He  pulled  off  his  gloves  and  showed  me  some  calluses  and 
one  fresh  blood  blister. 

"  So  Pa  Pirbright  is  busy  these  days,  is  he  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  He's  a  busy  man,"  says  Benny.  "  If  it  wasn't  for  that 
misery  in  his  back,  which  he's  a  martyr  to  and  requires 
rubbing  with  alcohol  a  whole  lot,  there  wouldn't  be  no  hold- 
ing him.  As  it  is,  it  keeps  him  on  the  keen  jump  supervis- 
ing us  boys  when  we  try  to  lift  a  little  of  the  burden  from 
that  poor  back  of  his.  And  then  he  does  a  heap  of 
studying  to  keep  Bill  and  Valentine  and  young  Dave 
and  Mitchell  and  Crawford  out  in  the  free  open  air 
daytimes,  with  plenty  of  room  to  move  round  and  no  re- 
straining influences  except  his  own  and  maybe  a  little  mos- 
quito bar  over  the  windows  nights.  He's  building  a  new 
barn  now  —  a  good  big  log  barn." 

"  That's  good,"  I  says.  "  It  shows  enterprise  and 
progress." 

"  And  he's  figuring  on  putting  a  pole  fence  round  thirty- 
five  acres  he's  got  in  sod  oats  —  three  poles  high  and  a  rider. 
Johnny  Root  says  he'll  undertake  to  snake  out  the  poles 
as  fast  as  Bert  Herndon  can  cut  'em.  There's  two  sapheads 
for  you !  I  reckon  they  think  they'll  make  themselves  solid 
with  the  old  man,  but  they're  a-going  to  be  surprised  one 
of  these  bright  balmy  days.  I  know  just  what  the  old  man 
thinks  of  them." 

"  I  presume  likely  he  told  you  in  confidence,"  I  says. 
"  Who's  working  on  the  barn  ?  " 

"  Sam  Kennedy  and  Mose  Haynes,"  he  answers. 
"  Them  two  fools  is  hanging  round  Magdalena.  And  then 
there's  Eudora's  fellow,  Edmond  Watts,  has  been  helping 
too.  I've  been  amusing  myself  a  little,  lifting  a  log  here. 


248  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

and  there  and  hewing  a  few  into  shape  with  a  broadax." 

"  Just  to  keep  yourself  in  good  condition  ?  "  says  I. 

"  Just  to  keep  myself  in  good  condition,"  says  he.  "  And 
I'm  naturally  helpful  and  handy.  Furthermore  you  can't 
go  into  a  man's  house  three  or  four  or  seven  times  a  week 
and  eat  his  good  beef  and  distract  the  attention  of  his  wom- 
enfolks from  their  household  duties  without  making  some 
sort  of  a  return  in  recompense  —  like  helping  with  the 
chores  or  bringing  along,  say,  a  plug  of  tobacco  or  so  or 
something  that  would  do  to  rub  a  lame  back  with  at  a  pinch 
if  it  wasn't  a  sinful  waste." 

"  That's  true,"  I  says.  "  So  they  always  have  plenty  of 
good  beef,  do  they?  I  reckon  them  Pirbright  boys  ain't 
altogether  useless  after  all." 

"  As  to  that,  they  acquitted  Val  Pirbright  and  he  left  the 
court  without  a  stain  on  his  character,  as  you  know  darned 
well,"  says  Benny  with  some  feeling.  "  Anyway,  when 
a  gentleman  eats  beef  at  another  gentleman's  board  it  ain't 
no  part  of  good  manners  to  ask  to  see  the  hide  that  covers 
it.  I'm  a  stock  owner  myself  and  I  propose  to  buy  me  a 
couple  of  heifers  to-day  and  become  more  so,  so  it  ain't 
likely  I  would  favor  rustlers  nor  rustling,  but  at  the 
same  time  I  don't  look  for  brands  on  steak  nor  make 
insinuations  regarding  the  same.  I'd  like  to  have  the 
little  horse  fed  about  half  a  peck  of  oats,  if  you  please,  Mr. 
Stegg,  sir." 

"  I'll  see  that  he  gets  'em,  Benny,"  I  says,  "  and  I  hope 
you  don't  think  I  meant  any  offense. 

*'  Before  you  go,  too,  I'd  like  to  have  you  tell  me  —  in 
strict  confidence  of  course  —  how  you  are  a-getting  on  and 
progressing  with  Miss  Abilene." 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  24-9 

He  looked  all  round  him  mighty  careful  and  then  lowered 
his  voice  to  a  whisper. 

"  In  strict  confidence,  she  thinks  the  world  and  all  of  me 
and  I  might  say  worships  the  ground  I  tread  on,"  he  says. 
"  But,"  says  he,  "  she's  particular  opposed  to  letting  me 
and  everybody  else  see  it.  A  person  that  hadn't  made  a 
study  of  her  and  didn't  know  no  better  than  to  go  by  ap- 
pearances and  actions  might  think  that  she  hadn't  a  particle 
of  use  for  me  —  but  I  ain't  fooled  —  not  for  a  holy  minute. 
No,  sir-ee !  I'm  on  to  her.  Once  I  kill  off  them  two  Bar  T 
loafers,  Root  and  Herndon,  which  I  aim  to  do  when  I  get  a 
good  chance,  I  won't  have  nothing  to  worry  about.  I  kind 
of  think  maybe  that  Root  is  the  one  that  really  needs  to  be 
exterminated,  but  I'm  a  great  believer  in  taking  a  little  extra 
trouble  to  make  sure,  and  I  reckon  there'll  have  to  be  two 
little  empty  bunks  at  the  Bar  T  ranch." 

"  It's  best  to  be  thorough,"  I  says. 

Then  I  took  notice  of  his  saddle,  which  was  one  of  those 
old-time  Mexicans,  with  a  horn  as  broad  as  a  dinner  plate 
and  all  scuffed  up  and  so  brittle  that  I  snapped  off  a  corner 
of  the  skirt  like  a  soda  cracker. 

"  This  here  is  a  sure-enough  deadly  insult  to  your  horse, 
Benny,"  I  says.  "  Where's  the  new  Cheyenne  Collins  you 
had?" 

"  I  loaned  it  to  Mitchell  Pirbright,"  he  says,  and  then 
looked  kind  of  foolish.  "  Oh,  I'll  get  it  back  all  right,  all 
right,"  he  says. 

There's  a  right  smart  of  wonders  in  the  world.  I  don't 
claim  to  have  seen  all  of  them,  but  I've  seen  aplenty  that 
made  my  eyes  bug  out  and  my  mouth  fall  open  and  my  shirt 


250  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

seem  kind  of  close  fitting  and  strained  at  the  seams  with 
the  emotions  that  was  a-swelling  within.  I've  watched  the 
north  lights  shooting  and  shifting  and  dancing  in  the  sky 
up  in  the  Possessions  and  I  was  at  the  Colorado  Canon 
before  Powell  come  anigh  it.  I  seen  the  Chicago  stock- 
yards twicet  and  in  Santone  a  Mexican  showed  me  a  chicken 
with  three  legs  that  he  had  raised  from  the  egg  and  swore 
come  out  of  it  that-a-way.  Besides  that,  I've  read  a  con- 
siderable and  I've  seen  pictures  took  from  photographs  of 
things  that  was  out  of  the  ordinary  to  an  extent  that  would 
take  a  man's  breath,  but  all  said  and  done  I  don't  think 
there's  anything  that  seems  to  a  man  so  kind  of  strange  and 
sort  of  wonderful,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  as  a 
young  woman  when  she's  all  fixed  up  to  go  to  church  or 
a  dance  or  a  buggy  ride  or  something  special  with  a  male 
object  —  particularly  a  dance.  I  don't  say  that  every  young 
woman  strikes  you  that-a-way,  but  I  reckon  most  of  'em 
do. 

You  look  at  one,  and  here  all  of  a  sudden  you  realize  that 
you  ain't  never  looked  at  her  before.  She  ain't  plain 
woman  like  you  always  believed  she  was.  Certainly  not! 
Her  hair  ain't  human  hair.  It's  too  bright  and  clean  and 
silky  and  it  smells  too  sweet  and  them  pretty  ribbons  just 
belong  there  like  they  couldn't  belong  no  place  else,  except 
maybe  round  her  waist  or  in  a  breast  knot,  or  wherever 
she's  happened  to  put  'em.  Same  way  with  her  skin. 
Seems  like  there  ain't  nothing  you  can  think  of  that's  similar 
—  all  smooth  and  soft  and  pinky  white  —  no  human  hide 
about  it !  You're  a-skeered  to  touch  it.  If  you  do  you 
touch  it  as  tender  and  careful  and  gentle  as  if  it  had  a  wet- 
paint  sign  on  it  —  which  of  course  it  hasn't.  And  her  neck- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  251 

lace  —  maybe  pearl  beads,  maybe  blue  or  red  or  green 
beads.  Anyway  and  whichever,  you  take  them  beads  and 
the  neck  they're  on  and  it  sure  strikes  you  all  of  a  heap  and 
when  you  quit  studying  this  and  that  and  kind  of  take  in 
the  whole  picture  you  get  dizzy. 

What  is  she?  What  is  she  a-thinking  of  when  she  looks 
at  you?  What  kind  of  thoughts  does  she  have  anyway? 
Not  the  same  kind  you  have.  There  ain't  nothing  you  could 
understand  about  her,  not  in  six  months  of  Sundays.  She's 
one  of  these  here  plumb  miracles ! 

Then  she  starts  in  talking  —  and  ain't  it  a  pity ! 

I  wouldn't  wonder  if  Benny  Tucker  didn't  feel  a  good 
deal  set  back  and  awe-struck  and  generally  flabbergasted 
when  he  first  seen  Abilene  Pirbright  with  her  wraps  off 
and  all  tricked  out  in  her  pretties  at  the  dance  they  give  in 
Blueblanket  for  the  boys  to  buy  their  hook-and-ladder  truck. 
Took  the  last  lingering  smitch  of  conceit  out  of  him,  I 
should  say,  and  the  rest  of  it  Abilene  had  removed  by 
methods  not  altogether  painless,  going  by  what  Benny  had 
told  me  and  what  I  judged  from  the  things  he  didn't  tell 
me.  Anyway,  I  seen  him  a-standing  by  where  she  was 
a-setting  and  a-looking  down  at  her  like  he'd  made  a  big 
discovery  and  was  a  considerable  exercised  in  his  mind 
about  it  —  whether  it  wouldn't  run  away  or  float  out  of  an 
open  window  if  he  spoke  out  loud  or  made  any  brash 
movement.  I  could  see  that  there  wasn't  a  fold  of  her 
fluffy  white  dress  that  he  wasn't  taking  notice  of  and  not  a 
line  nor  a  curve  anywhere  from  the  top  of  her  head  to  the 
tip  of  her  slipper  that  he  missed,  and  everything  making 
him  realize  deep  down  in  his  heart  what  a  crawling,  scaly 
centipede  he  was  after  all. 


252  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

Just  the  same,  he  made  out  to  ask  for  her  program  and 
to  mark  "  B.  T."  against  most  of  the  dances. 

"  I  don't  aim  to  take  everything,"  he  says,  "  and  if  you'd 
like  to  dance  the  Virginia  reel  with  anybody  else  I  won't 
make  no  public  fuss." 

"  That's  right  liberal  and  clever  of  you,"  says  Abilene, 
looking  at  the  card.  She  tucked  it  into  her  sash  and  pulled 
out  another  one,  having  provided  herself  with  two  in  case 
of  emergencies.  "  They're  beginning  to  grand  march  now," 
she  says,  favoring  him  with  a  smile.  "  I  might  as  well  let 
you  have  that,  being  as  you  was  kind  enough  to  trouble  to 
bring  me." 

So  they  promenaded  off  and  Benny  did  get  the  waltz  fol- 
lowing the  march,  but  when  that  was  over  and  he  wanted 
to  do  some  more  pencil  work  Abilene  told  him  to  go  to  Mag- 
dalena  and  Eudora  and  see  if  he  couldn't  make  some  of  his 
turkey  tracks  on  their  programs. 

"  And  ma  dances  real  well  and  enjoys  it,"  she  says. 
"  Maybe  you  can  persuade  her  to  give  you  one  or  two  square 
dances." 

"  I'll  do  my  level  best  to  get  her  to,"  says  Benny  meekly, 
and  he  went  off  and  made  a  bluff  at  all  three  ladies  —  and 
got  his  bluff  called. 

Then  being  kind  of  reckless  by  that  time,  I  suppose,  and 
figuring  that  he  might  as  well  make  a  miserable  night  of  it, 
he  tackled  Mrs.  Pete  Kellogg  and  Mrs.  Tracy  O'Neill,  who 
wasn't  neither  of  them  as  young  and  slender  and  popular 
with  the  boys  as  they  used  to  be  once  on  a  time.  The  result 
of  that  was  that  Abilene  had  a  perfectly  elegant  time  and 
Benny  didn't  not  by  no  means,  or  if  he  did  he  sure  didn't 
look  it. 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  253 

Every  once  in  a  while  I'd  see  him  go  up  to  Abilene  and 
I'd  see  Abilene  smile  at  him  and  shake  her  head  and  then 
he'd  stand  by  her  for  a  minute  or  two,  looking  like  afflic- 
tion sore  long  time  he'd  bore  and  chewing  his  mustache  one 
end  at  a  time.  Then  he'd  sidle  off.  I  reckon  he  took  it 
pretty  hard  when  finally  she  gave  pa  one  of  them  precious 
waltzes. 

"  But  I  just  naturally  love  to  dance  with  pa,"  she  says. 
And  then  she  says  kind  of  sharp,  "  What  did  you  remark, 
Mr.  Tucker?" 

"  Nothing,"  says  Benny. 

"  I  wouldn't  like  it  right  well  if  you  did,"  she  says.  "Par- 
ticular if  it  was  what  I  thought  you  said.  I  guess  I'll  go 
home  with  pa  too.  There's  aplenty  of  room  in  the  wagon 
for  me  and  no  need  of  putting  you  to  the  trouble." 

"  No  trouble  —  it's  a  pleasure,"  says  Benny  sort  of  ab- 
sent-mindedly. He  was  a-looking  at  Johnny  Root  and  Bert 
Herndon,  who  was  a-talking  together  by  the  door.  Then 
he  gave  a  sigh.  "  Well,  if  I  can't  dance  with  you  I  might 
as  well  be  finding  something  for  little  hands  to  do,"  he  says. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  she  asks,  but  he  had  moved  off, 
and  just  then  pa  come  up  a-smiling  all  over  his  red  face, 
which  he'd  washed  and  polished,  and  with  his  curly  beard 
combed  and  a  pair  of  new  morocco  boots  on,  and  Abilene 
looked  at  him  like  he  was  the  fairy  prince  and  stepped  out 
on  the  floor  with  him. 

"  Just  like  she  enjoyed  it,"  I  says  to  Tracy  O'Neill,  who 
stood  at  my  elbow  looking  about  as  gloomy  as  Benny. 

"  I  reckon  she  does  too,"  says  Tracy.  "  That's  the  hell 
of  it,"  he  says  real  bitter.  "  Every  last  one  of  them  girls 
of  his  thinks  the  world  of  the  worthless,  loafing,  whisky- 


254  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

soaking  old  scalawag.  My  wife  does.  I  thought  I'd  get 
everlastingly  shut  of  the  whole  darned  no-account  sponging 
outfit  after  I'd  got  married,  but  not  so.  I  don't  mean  the 
girls,  you  understand,  but  I've  just  naturally  spoiled  every 
political  chance  I  ever  had  defending  Val  and  them  other 
pups  every  time  they  get  arrested  for  cattle  stealing  or  some 
other  deviltry.  I  wouldn't  get  a  vote  for  dog  pelter  from 
any  one  of  the  cow  ranches.  Poor  old  Pete  Kellogg  is  an- 
other suffering  victim.  He  —  I  guess  I'd  better  keep  my 
mouth  shut.  But  it  certainly  makes  me  sore  to  see  that 
old  skeezicks  out  there  capering  like  a  goat  full  of  loco 
weed." 

Pa  was  certainly  a-capering,  and  lame  back  or  no  lame 
back  he  was  sure  an  elegant  and  a  limber  dancer. 

"  Kind  of  rough  on  Benny  Tucker,"  I  says.  "  He's  been 
a-trying  to  get  a  dance  with  Abilene  all  evening.  I've  had 
a  heap  of  sport  watching  him.  I  wonder  he  don't  get  mad." 

"  A  good  thing  for  him  if  he  did  and  stayed  good  and 
mad,"  says  Tracy.  '*  He's  a  good  boy  and  he's  been  steadied 
down  and  working  hard  ever  since  I  first  met  him.  Saving 
his  money  and  buying  stock,  too,  but  much  good  it  will  do 
him  with  pa  and  the  boys  to  bum  it  off  him  and  Abilene 
to  back  'em  up !  I'm  fond  of  Abilene  and  she'd  be  all  right, 
but  I've  got  a  powerful  lot  of  sympathy  for  any  man  that 
marries  into  the  Pirbright  family.  I've  warned  him  and 
Pete  has  warned  him,  but " 

He  was  looking  round  the  room. 

"Where  is  Benny,  anyway?"  he  says.  "I  don't  see 
nothing  of  him." 

I  looked  round  myself. 

"  I  don't  see  nothing  of  Johnny  Root  nor  Bert  Herndon," 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  255 

I  says.  "  Tracy,  let's  you  and  me  step  quietly  outside  and 
get  a  mouthful  or  two  of  fresh  air.  I've  got  an  idea.  I 
may  be  right  and  I  may  be  wrong." 

I  was  right.  There  wasn't  much  to  guide  us  in  the  dark, 
but  the  night  was  still,  and  listening  hard  we  could  hear 
grunts  and  the  scuffling  of  feet  and  once  in  a  while  some 
bad  language  that  seemed  to  come  from  the  other  side  of 
the  post  office  next  to  the  hall.  We  hurried  round  there 
and  made  out  one  figure  sitting  down  with  his  back  to  the 
clapboards  and  two  others  dancing  and  dodging  round  in 
the  sunflowers  a  considerable  lively  and  slamming  at  each 
other  real  enthusiastic.  Just  as  we  had  took  in  the  situa- 
tion there  come  a  smack  like  a  three-base-hit  and  one  of  the 
two  went  down  so  quick  you  couldn't  see  him  fall. 

"  Get  up  and  try  it  again,"  says  Benny  Tucker's  voice, 
kind  of  breathless  and  hoarse,  but  cheerful  and  encourag- 
ing. "Once  more  for  the  cigars,  sport!  If  at  first  you 
don't  succeed,  walk  round  your  chair  and  call  for  a  new 
deck.  You  never  know  your  luck.  All  right,  rest  if  you 
want  to  —  I'll  wait.  Maybe  Johnny's  ready  to  take  an- 
other whirl  at  me  by  this  time.  How  about  it,  Johnny? 
Let's  keep  a-moving  or  we'll  catch  cold  without  our 
coats  on." 

"  I've  had  all  I  need  for  to-night,"  says  Johnny,  who  was 
the  one  leaning  against  the  post  office.  He  talked  like  he 
had  a  harelip.  "  S'm'other  night,  maybe,  if  you  think  you 
can  keep  your  feet  out  of  my  stomach." 

He  got  up  slowly  and  limped  over  to  where  his  coat  was 
and  begun  to  put  it  on.  Benny  walked  back  to  Bert  Hern- 
don,  who  was  heaving  to  get  the  soles  of  his  boots  onto  the 
ground. 


256  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"That's  good,"  says  Benny.  "That's  the  spirit  I  like 
to  see.  Take  your  time  to  it  and  then  get  your  breath  good. 
There's  one  whole  side  of  my  face  that  you  ain't  touched 
yet  all  ready  for  you.  Want  I  should  help  you  a  little? 
What?  Say,  you  ain't  quitting?  Well,  I  wouldn't  have 
believed  it !  They  always  did  tell  me  that  you  Bar  T  wad- 
dies  was  opposed  to  all  forms  of  violence,  but  I  allowed 
there  must  be  some  mistake,  the  two  of  you  piled  onto  me 
so  willing  and  unanimous.  Think  better  of  it,  boys!  I'm 
so  weak  this  moment  that  I  can't  scarcely  stand  and  you'd 
have  an  everlasting  cinch.  See  if  you  can't  find  a  club 
apiece  somewheres.  No  ?  Well,  well !  " 

Bert  stopped  on  his  way  after  Johnny. 

"  You  try  and  keep  from  being  too  disappointed,  Ben 
Tucker,"  he  says.  "  It  won't  be  but  a  question  of  a  little 
time  afore  we  give  you  all  you  want.  It  ain't  as  if  we  wasn't 
never  going  to  meet  again." 

"  I'll  be  pleased  to  meet  either  or  both  of  you  and  any 
assistance  you  want  to  bring  along,"  says  Benny.  "  Only 
don't  on  no  account  let  it  be  anywhere  in  the  Pass  Creek 
or  in  any  society  that  you  think  I'd  be  likely  to  object  tp 
your  being  in.  Remember  not  to  forget  that,  because  I 
ain't  always  as  easy  and  forbearing  as  what  I  am  to-night." 

Bert  and  Johnny  didn't  make  no  answer  but  silent  con- 
tempt to  that,  and  Benny,  after  watching  them  out  of  sight, 
chuckled  as  if  he  was  right  well  pleased  with  himself  and 
picked  up  his  own  coat.  Then  he  seen  us  for  the  first 
time  and  come  up  close  enough  to  recognize  us. 

"  What's  this  here  disgraceful  scene  about  ?  "  asks  Tracy. 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  Benny  replies.  "  I  just  called  them 
two  boys  outside  to  give  them  some  good  advice  about  keep- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  257 

ing  late  hours  and  letting  their  horses  stand  and  allowed  it 
was  high  time  they  hit  the  trail  for  the  ranch  so's  they 
could  get  up  fresh  for  the  day's  work  —  just  friendly  — 
and  the  hotheaded  fools  got  right  on  their  respective  ears 
and  begun  to  pull  their  coat-s.  I'm  glad  I  shed  mine,  because 
this  here  shirt  sleeve  is  tore  to  ribbons  and  I've  got  some- 
thing to  cover  it  up.  Mr.  Stegg,  sir,  would  you  mind  strik- 
ing a  match  and  inspecting  my  eye?" 

I  done  that  and  found  that  -the  optic  was  some  puffed 
but  no  rainbow  hues.  His  left  jaw  was  swelled  some  too, 
but  not  noticeable  except  front  view. 

"  Most  of  the  damage  is  round  the  short  ribs,  excepting 
a  couple  that  Johnny  got  in  on  the  back  of  my  neck,"  says 
Benny.  "  If  he  hadn't  done  that  he  wouldn't  have  sus- 
tained that  shock  to  his  digestion  that  he  was  just  mention- 
ing, but  I  couldn't  look  back  of  me  to  see  where  to  place 
my  foot,  account  of  Bert  distracting  my  attention  in  front. 
If  either  of  you  two  has  got  a  few  pins  my  pants  would 
appreciate  'em.  I  don't  know  but  I  may  dance  some  more. 
I  sure  feel  like  action  and  if  I  ain't  marked  up  like  you  say  I 

ain't I  reckon  I've  dropped  my  comb  out  of  my  vest 

pocket.  Lend  me  yours,  Tracy." 

I  called  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  they  was  a-playing 
the  Home  Sweet  Home  waltz  right  now  and  Tracy  made 
a  run  for  the  hall  while  Benny  and  me  scooted  for  the  liv- 
ery, where  Benny  got  into  his  big  wolf-skin  coat  while  I 
hitched  up  his  team  in  jig  time.  Even  so,  we  didn't  get 
round  none  too  soon.  Some  of  the  Pirbright  family  was 
already  in  their  wagon  and  Abilene  was  a-waiting  her  turn 
to  be  helped  in  when  Benny  come  up  and  took  her  gently 
by  the  arm. 


258  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  I  ain't  a-going  with  you,  Mr.  Tucker,"  she  says.  "  I'm 
a-going  with  pa.  Ain't  I,  pa?  There  ain't  no  need  for  Mr. 
Tucker  to  drive  way  out  to  the  valley." 

"  Mr.  Tucker  would  just  as  lief  and  some  liefer,"  says 
Benny.  "  He's  sort  of  bullheaded,  Mr.  Tucker  is,  and  he's 
set  like  the  rock-ribbed  granite  hills  on  having  Miss  Abi- 
lene's  company  home.  Mr.  Dave  Pirbright  is  a  good  friend 
of  his  too,  ain't  you,  pa?  " 

"  The  best  you  ever  had,"  says  the  old  man.  "  Abby, 
don't  let's  have  no  foolishness.  You  don't  ride  in  this 
wagon  nohow." 

"Just  as  you  say,  pa,"  says  Abilene,  and  she  let  Benny 
take  her  and  put  her  in  the  buggy. 

But  if  ever  you  seen  a  young  lady  on  a  middling  dark 
night  that  acted  like  she  was  a-suffering  for  a  noble  cause 
and  aimed  to  be  dignified  about  it,  it  was  her.  Benny 
couldn't  see  her  right  well,  but  that  fur  coat  of  his  wasn't 
no  protection  against  the  chill  that  he  got  on  his  left  side. 

"  I've  sure  got  to  apologize  to  you,  Miss  Abilene,"  he  says 
after  they'd  gone  about  three  mile  without  speaking.  ''  It 
was  mighty  mean  and  low-down  of  me  and  I'll  put  in  the 
balance  of  my  life  regretting  it." 

"  Regretting  what  ?  "  she  says. 

"  I  don't  know,"  says  he,  "  but  it  must  be  something. 
Maybe  it's  because  I  didn't  ask  pa  to  dance  with  me." 

She  didn't  make  no  answer  to  that. 

"  I  hope  I  ain't  crowding  you,"  he  says  after  a  while. 

"That's  past  hoping  for,"  she  told  him.  "But  there's 
an  end  to  everything  and  I'll  see  you  don't  get  another 
chance.  Won't  them  horses  go  no  faster?" 


BENNY  'AND  HER  FAMILEE  259 

"We'll  try,"  says  Benny,  and  he  give  the  team  a  flick 
with  the  whip  and  slacked  on  the  bits. 

There  wasn't  no  doubt  they  could  go  faster.  They  done 
so.  Some  of  the  places  in  the  road  was  higher  than  what 
others  was  and  them  was  the  ones  that  the  buggy  hit. 
When  that  happened  Benny  would  let  out  a  yip  and  touch 
'em  up  again.  But  Abilene  never  peeped.  You'd  have 
thought  she  was  enjoying  the  motion  and  the  fresh  air  or 
had  maybe  went  to  sleep.  Finally  they  come  to  the  pass, 
where  the  grade  sloped  about  a  third  pitch  and  the  creek 
bed  about  a  thousand  feet  below,  and  Benny  wiped  the 
sweat  from  his  forehead  and  put  on  the  brakes. 

"  What  are  you  a-slacking  up  for  ?  "  asks  Abilene. 

"  Because  my  nerve  ain't  equal  to  yours,  and  I've  been 
praying  as  hard  as  I  know  how  for  the  last  five  miles," 
Benny  says.  "  There  ain't  no  sense  nor  use  a-straining 
the  patience  of  a  merciful  Providence  too  far.  You  win." 

They  got  down  to  the  foot  of  the  grade  and  then  Benny 
spoke  up  again. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  take  no  undue  advantage  of  this  here 
after  we're  married,"  he  says. 

"  I  won't  do  nothing  you  don't  like  —  after  we're  mar- 
ried," says  Abilene.  "  After  we're  married  I'll  ride  to  Put- 
ney on  a  pig  and  come  back  floating  down  the  river  on  a 
grindstone.  But  until  then  I'll  thank  you  to  keep  away 
from  our  place.  If  that  ain't  plain  enough  I'll  get  Brother 
Crawford  to  make  it  plainer." 

"  I'm  sorry  you  think  that-a-way  about  it,"  says  Benny. 

"  I'd  be  sorry  if  I  felt  any  other  way,"  says  she, 

"Why?  "he  asks. 


260  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  Because,"  says  she. 

"If  you  want  me  to  stay  away  111  sure  do  it,"  he  says. 

"  That's  good,"  says  she. 

They  didn't  either  of  them  say  no  more  until  they  got  to 
the  house.  Then  Benny  said  he'd  go  in  and  start  the  fire 
for  her  so's  not  to  have  to  wake  Crawford  and  Bill.  She 
told  him  to  please  himself,  but  it  wasn't  necessary,  and  she 
kept  on  her  wraps  and  stood  while  he  started  the  heater  to 
going. 

"  Now  if  you  want  me  to  go  I'll  go  right  now  and  promise 
you  faithful  to  stay  gone,"  says  Benny. 

"  Thank  you  kindly,"  says  Abilene. 

"  But  I  don't  believe  you  want  me  to,"  says  Benny. 

Then  he  took  a  quick  step  toward  her  and  grabbed  her 
by  the  shoulders  and  shook  her  until  her  head  rocked. 

'*  Why,  you  miserable  little  bundle  of  mischief,  what  do 
you  mean,  deviling  me  this-a-way  ? "  he  says  sharp  and 
savage.  "  Acting  without  rime  or  reason !  What  do  you 
reckon  I  am  that  you  think  you  can  play  horse  with  me  like 
I  was  nothing  at  all  ?  Nerve !  Do  you  think  that  because 
I  didn't  want  to  break  your  neck  back  at  the  pass  that  I'm 
a  lump  of  putty?  Look  me  in  the  eye  and  tell  me!  " 

He  held  her  off,  frowning  at  her.  She  had  her  lips  close 
set  and  her  chin  stuck  out. 

"  Which  eye  do  you  want  me  to  look  at  ? "  says  she. 
"  The  one  that's  bunged  up  or  the  other  one  ?  " 

Benny  frowned  at  her  harder  than  ever  and  tightened  his 
grip.  For  a  full  minute  they  stood  fighting,  look  against 
look.  Then  Benny's  hands  dropped  to  his  side. 

"  Kiss  me,"  says  he. 

Will  you  believe  she  kissed  him?    She  did!    And  the 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  261 

next  thing  she  had  her  hot  little  face  burrowed  into  his 
wolfskin  coat  and  was  a-crying. 

"  Y-You  d-d-damned  my  pa,  Benny ! "  she  sobbed. 

'*  For  that  matter,  I  blessed  him  up  hill  and  down  dale 
right  away,"  says  Benny,  telling  me.  "  And  why  wouldn't 
I  ?  "  says  he.  "  He's  Abilene 's  parent  and  that  would  cover 
a  multitude  more  sins  than  he'd  ever  have  the  time  or  dis- 
position to  perpetrate  —  give  him  credit  for  that.  We've 
all  got  our  little  weaknesses  and  pa  may  have  his,  but  I 
ain't  a-trying  to  make  Abilene  admit  it  nor  yet  own  up  that 
her  brothers  ain't  all  that  they  had  ought  to  be.  She's 
sensitive  on  that  subject.  She  knows  she's  got  the  finest 
pa  and  the  loveliest  ma  and  the  best  and  smartest  brothers 
and  sisters  that  there  is  anywheres,  and  yet  there's  a  passle 
of  low-down,  dirty-tongued,  envious  and  lying  folks  round 
this  here  town  and  county  that's  trying  to  backcap  the 
family. 

"  Would  you  believe  that  she  got  a  notion  that  I  didn't 
appreciate  pa  and  that  I  didn't  have  no  extra-high  opinion 
of  the  boys?  Yes,  sir,  and  that's  what  come  near  setting 
her  against  me.  I  told  her  that  while  I  thought  a  heap  of 
her  it  was  my  ambition  to  get  connected  up  some  way  with 
the  Pirbright  family  that  brought  me  to  the  valley  in  the 
first  place.  I  told  her  I  was  proud  to  be  pa's  son-in-law. 
And  I  am.  He's  all  right  when  you  come  to  know  him 
and  make  allowances.  The  boys  too.  They're  right  nice 
boys  —  or  will  be  when  they  sort  of  steady  down  and  get 
their  notions  of  other  people's  property  untangled  and  quit 
whisky  and  go  to  work." 

"  How  did  pa  take  it?  "  I  asked. 


262  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  Tolerable  well,  considering,"  says  Benny.  "  He  ain't 
none  too  well  pleased  about  having  Johnny  Root  and  Bert 
Herndon  quitting  on  their  job  of  fencing  for  him,  but  he's 
a-going  to  hire  a  man  at  his  own  expense  to  help  me  and 
Pete  Kellogg  and  Eudora's  fellow  and  the  two  that's  after 
Magdalena.  We'll  make  out.  I'm  in  town  to-day  to  go 
on  pa's  note  so's  he  can  pay  the  new  hand  a  month's  wages. 
That's  the  least  I  can  do,  being  as  it's  my  fault  that  it's 
necessary  to  hire  help." 

"  When  do  you  figure  on  getting  married  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

His  lip  kind  of  fell. 

"  Not  for  quite  a  while  yet,  I  reckon,"  he  answers. 
"  There's  a  right  smart  of  work  to  be  done  first  and  I've 
got  to  hang  onto  my  job  with  the  Lazy  X.  But  that  don't 
faze  me,"  he  says.  "  If  that  old  Bible  rooster,  Jacob,  could 
work  seven  years  for  old  man  Laban  to  get  his  girl  I 
reckon  I  can  hustle  for  a  year  or  two  to  get  Abilene." 

"  Well,  I  congratulate  you,  Benny,"  I  says.  "  I  like  to 
see  a  man  look  a  situation  square  in  the  face  and  make  .the 
best  of  it.  You  aim  to  take  up  a  ranch  in  the  valley  near 
pa,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"  Abilene  wants  we  should,"  he  says.  "  I  reckon  that's 
what  we'll  do.  There's  good  range  and  plenty  of  water 
there.  Yes,  I  reckon  I'll  have  to,  dad  blame  it ! " 

I  figure  that  Benny  was  too  much  occupied  the  rest  of 
that  fall  and  winter  to  come  into  town  and  get  a  touch  of 
high  life.  I  might  have  thought  he'd  left  the  country  if 
I  hadn't  got  word  of  him  now  and  then  from  Tracy  O'Neill. 
Tracy  didn't  say  much  either,  only  that  it  was  too  dog-gone 
bad  and  by  gosh  he  hated  to  see  it.  Poor  old  Tracy  had 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  263 

tried  for  district  attorney  that  fall.  He  got  the  nomina- 
tion, but  like  he'd  expected,  the  cow  vote  swamped  him  at 
the  election.  The  only  comfort  he  had  was  that  he  was 
acquiring  a  reputation  for  being  able  to  get  anybody  off 
for  anything,  no  matter  what  the  evidence  was.  That  was 
after  the  grand  jury  had  indicted  Val  Pirbright  for  the 
third  time  and  Tracy  had  got  him  acquitted.  Bill  Pir- 
bright was  in  that,  too,  but  skipped  for  Montana  and  that 
made  one  less. 

"  Yes,"  says  Tracy,  "  my  heart  bleeds  for  that  poor  boy, 
Benny.  He  reminds  me  of  myself  when  I  was  young  and 
hopeful  and  didn't  have  no  notion  of  the  influence  of  women 
folks.  I  wish  I  could  help  him,  but  by  ginger,  he  won't 
help  himself !  Pa  and  the  boys  have  about  worked  him  dry, 
and  he  takes  it  all  good-natured  account  of  Abilene." 

He  went  away  shaking  his  head. 

Another  time  he  come  in  and  brung  the  news  that  the 
bank  had  foreclosed  on  Benny's  cattle  and  that  the  Lazy  X 
had  fired  him  for  no  reason  only  he  was  too  thick  with  the 
Pirbright  boys. 

"  Family  ties  is  all  right,  but  you  wouldn't  think  a  girl 
would  want  her  man  hog-tied  by  'em,"  he  says. 

I  asked  what  Benny  was  a-doing  and  he  told  me  Benny 
was  working  at  Pirbright's  for  his  board  and  Abilene's  ap- 
proving smiles. 

But  finally  along  about  the  beginning  of  May  on  a  Sat- 
urday afternoon  Tracy  comes  in  on  his  way  from  the  house 
a-smiling  all  over  his  face. 

"  What  do  you  think  has  happened  ?  "  he  asks,  and  then 
not  waiting  for  me  to  guess  — "  Benny  Tucker's  busted 
loose,"  he  says,  and  let  out  a  real  whoop  of  joy.  "  Yes,  sir, 


264  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

him  and  Abilene  has  had  a  few  words  and  parted  and 
Benny's  shook  the  dust  of  the  valley  from  his  feet  for 
keeps.  If  you  don't  believe  me  go  into  Mike's  and  see." 

It  wasn't  that  I  didn't  believe  him,  but  I  went  over  to 
Mike's  right  away,  and  there  sure  enough  was  Benny  a-sit- 
ting  at  a  table  by  himself  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room,  a-con- 
siderable  flushed  up  but  otherwise  not  showing  no  signs  of 
what  he'd  been  celebrating  with.  Being  early,  there  wasn't 
nobody  else  in  the  place  except  Mike,  who  was  on  his  way 
with  the  bottle  and  a  clean  glass. 

"  One  for  Mr.  Stegg,  Mike,"  says  Benny,  nodding  at  me 
and  motioning  for  me  to  sit  down. 

"  What's  the  good  word  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  There  ain't  no  good  words,"  he  says.  "  They  ain't 
using  them  no  more  where  I've  been.  But  it's  all  in  a  life- 
time and  the  longer  you  live  the  less  you  learn.  Naked 
I  come  into  the  world  and  now  I  own  this  here  suit  of 
clothes  I'm  wearing  in  fee  simple  and  not  no  more,  except 
a  little  loose  change  I  got  for  my  horse  a  while  ago.  I'm 
a-going  to  herd  sheep  now  and  won't  need  no  horse  for 
that.  All  I'm  afraid  of  is  my  character  ain't  good  enough 
for  a  sheep  herder.  I've  been  told  so.  A  lady  as  good  as 
told  me  that." 

"  Tracy  just  told  me  he  thought  there  was  some  trouble 
betwixt  you  and  Abilene,"  I  says.  "  I  hope  it  ain't  nothing 
serious. 

"  Just  my  way  of  bursting  into  song,"  he  explains.  "  It 
seems  to  annoy  some  folks.  Remember  when  I  come  and 
sung  Kathleen  Mavourneen  to  you  one  morning  bright  and 
early  ?  Well,  you  was  real  peevish  about  it  yourself.  Ab- 
ilene was  more  so." 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  265 

"  You  ain't  no  great  shakes  as  a  singster,  Benny,"  I  says. 
"  Still,  it  don't  seem  like  Kathleen  Mavourneen  was  no  just 
cause  or  impediment.  I  forgave  you  and " 

"  It  wasn't  Kathleen  Mavourneen,"  says  Benny.  "  It 
was  this  here" — he  cleared  his  throat  and  commenced  to 
sing  soft  and  low  so's  Mike  couldn't  hear: 

"  I  don't  like  your  familee  — 
Familee ; 

They  don't  make  a  hit  with  me  — 
Hit  with  me. 

I  get  tired  —  rather,  loaning  money  to  your  father 
While  your  poor  relations  sponge  on  me. 

"  Something  we'd  been  discussing  put  that  into  my  head," 
he  says.  "There's  more  of  it: 

"  I  don't  think  your  Uncle  John  — 
Uncle  John 

Ever  had  a  collar  on  — 
Collar  on. 

You're  a  perfect  lady,  but  when  I  get  hitched  for  life 
I?ll  pick 
An  or-phan. 

"  You  acquainted  with  any  likely  female  orphans  of  mar- 
riageable age,  Mr.  Stegg,  sir?" 

"  Hum !  "  says  I.  "  So  that  was  it,  was  it  ?  Just  a  little 
thing  like  that !  " 

"  And  a  little  thing  like  that  was  a-plenty,"  says  he. 

"  She'll  get  over  it,"  I  says. 


266  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  Sure,"  he  says.  "  Give  her  a  little  time  —  about  a 
million  years.  The  trouble  is  I  ain't  a-going  to  get  over  it 
—  not  to  the  extent  of  endowing  pa  with  no  more  of  my 
worldly  goods  nor  cherishing  of  him  in  no  way,  shape  or 
manner.  I've  got  other  plans." 

"  Like  endowing  Mike  Moran,"  I  says.  "  You're  start- 
ing well.  That's  the  right  idea  —  showing  folks  that  you're 
all  broke  up  over  this  here  and  don't  care  two  whoops  how 
low-down  you  get  or  what  becomes  of  you.  Seems  like 
that's  all  you  can  do,  now  that  the  tuck  is  took  plumb  out 
of  you  and  you  ain't  got  no  pretensions  to  being  a  man." 

"  Do  you  reckon  ?  "  he  says,  giving  me  an  ugly  look. 

"It  seems  reasonable,  don't  it?"  I  says.  "Well,  I've 
got  to  be  getting  back  to  work,  not  having  no  blasted  hopes 
to  drown  in  rotgut.  So  long." 

I  left  him  right  there,  fingering  his  whisky  gass  and  sort 
of  studying.  About  ten  minutes  after  that  he  walks  into 
the  livery  kind  of  brisk  and  with  his  head  up. 

"  Would  you  lend  me  the  loan  of  twenty-five  dollars  and 
take  chances  on  getting  it  back  ? "  he  says,  looking  me 
straight  in  the  eye. 

I  went  right  down  after  my  weasel  and  gave  him  what  he 
asked  for. 

"  Now  I  can  soak  myself  good  and  plenty  inside  and  out," 
he  says. 

"  You  can,"  I  told  him. 

"  Or  I  might  indulge  in  a  little  stud,"  he  says.  "  Lucky  at 
cards,  unlucky  in  love  —  ain't  that  right  ?  " 

I  told  him  I'd  heard  rumors  to  that  effect,  and  he  looked 
at  me  kind  of  curious  and  walked  out  and  I  didn't  see  him 
again  for  nigh  on  three  months.  As  soon  as  he  left  me  he 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  267 

went  and  bought  his  horse  back  and  then  took  the  old  Indian 
trail  up  Beaver  and  fetched  up  on  the  Milk  River,  where  he 
went  to  work  for  a  man  name  of  Bradley  at  foreman's 
wages.  I  didn't  know  about  that  until  he  come  back 
though.  Once  or  twice  I  seen  Abilene  Pirbright  on  the 
street,  driving  in  with  pa  to  see  sister  Belle,  and  it  struck 
me  she  looked  mighty  big-eyed  and  white  and  peaked,  and 
there  wasn't  no  mischief  in  her  smile.  It  come  like  it  was 
dragged. 

"Heard  anything  of  Benny  Tucker  since  he  left?"   I 
asked  her  one  time. 

Out  went  her  chin  and  her  eyes  struck  me  as  mighty  cold 
and  hard. 

"  I'm  glad  to  say  I  ain't,"  she  says.  "If  you  have  you 
can  keep  your  news  to  yourself,  Mr.  Stegg,  please." 

"  Well,  I  ain't  got  any,"  I  says.  "  I  reckon  he  must  have 
gone  back  to  Texas." 

"  It  looks  a  heap  like  rain,"  she  says,  and  that  was  all  I 
got. 

I  made  up  my  mind  right  there  that  wherever  Benny  was 
he  was  better  off.  But  it  wasn't  but  a  short  time  after  that 
he  walked  in  on  me  looking  as  natural  as  ever  and  acting 
the  same,  only  there  was  some  lines  in  his  face  that  hadn't 
been  there  when  he  left,  and  after  the  first  glad  greetings 
was  over  he  seemed  kind  of  older  every  way.  Before  I 
forget,  I'll  mention  that  he  paid  me  back  what  he  owed  me. 
He'd  done  pretty  well  with  Bradley  and  a  side  deal  in  some 
Oregon  ponies  that  Bradley  had  helped  him  to  buy.  On 
top  of  that  an  uncle  of  his  in  Texas  had  died  and  left  him 
some  money  and  about  a  thousand  acres  of  land  that  he 
didn't  know  was  any  good  or  not.  He  aimed  to  go  to  Texas 


268  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

and  find  out  maybe.  Maybe  he'd  stay  on  at  Blueblanket 
and  buy  and  sell  stock.  He  wasn't  dead  sure  what  —  only 
there  was  one  little  piece  of  business  here  that  he  calculated 
to  attend  to.  He  had  heard  that  Bert  Herndon  was  in- 
fringing on  Pass  Creek  Valley  again.  Was  that  so? 

I  told  him  that  there  was  reports  that  Bert  had  been  seen 
there,  which  might  or  might  not  be  true. 

"  In  a  general  way  that  ain't  no  concern  of  mine,"  says 
he.  "  Still  I  promised  Bert  something  if  he  strayed  over 
that  way  and  I'll  have  to  make  that  boy  understand  that  I 
keep  my  promises." 

I  tried  to  make  him  see  that  there  wasn't  no  use  having 
more  trouble.  I  told  him  that  Abilene  hadn't  got  no  earthly 
use  for  him,  present  or  absent,  and  she  had  got  to  be  fallen 
off  in  her  looks  anyway,  and  Bert  might  be  the  last  chance 
she'd  have.  But  it  wasn't  no  use.  He  just  nodded  and 
rolled  him  a  cigarette,  and  the  first  time  Bert  come  to  town 
he  lambasted  that  waddy  in  a  way  that  wasn't  a  bruise  or 
broken  rib  short  of  shameful.  He  made  Bert  another  prom- 
ise after  that  and  Bert  must  have  figured  he'd  keep  it.  Any- 
way Mr.  Herndon  drew  his  pay  from  the  Bar  T  as  soon  as 
he  was  able  to  travel  and  he  traveled.  Johnny  Root  missed 
him. 

After  that  business  was  done  Benny  buckled  down  to 
buying  stock  here  and  there,  a  head  or  two  or  three  at  a 
time  mostly,  and  shipping  when  he'd  got  enough  of  them 
for  a  mess.  He  was  a  good  buyer  and  keeping  track  of  the 
market  he  done  well.  He  boarded  with  Ma  Frush  when  he 
was  in  town  and  rented  one  of  her  rooms,  where  he  played 
solitaire  most  of  his  evenings.  Once  in  a  while  he'd  come 
and  gas  with  me,  but  not  often.  He'd  got  kind  of  thick 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  269 

with  Tracy  O'Neill  and  I  guess  Tracy  saw  more  of  him 
than  what  I  did.  His  only  other  diversions  was  laying  for 
any  new  company  Abilene  happened  to  get  and  man- 
handling them  to  the  best  of  his  ability.  Getting  shot  up 
once  in  a  while  didn't  dampen  his  enthusiasm  for  this  here 
sport.  Charlie  Goss  put  a  bullet  in  his  shoulder  one  time 
and  another  time  Otis  Blanchard  come  near  placing  him  on 
file,  just  grazing  his  ear  and  shooting  so  close  he  burned 
Benny's  cheek.  But  neither  one  of  them  fellows  done  much 
bragging  of  it.  Benny  didn't  use  nothing  but  his  fists,  but 
he  was  sure  efficacious  with  them. 

Him  and  Abilene  met  up  once  in  a  while.  The  first  time 
she  turned  as  white  as  chalk  and  then  flushed  scarlet  when 
he  looked  at  her  and  at  pa  and  at  a  calf  they  had  in  the 
back  of  the  wagon  without  no  difference  in  the  looks  he  gave 
each  of  them.  After  that  I  reckon  she  braced  herself.  She 
wouldn't  pretend  she  didn't  see  him,  but  he  might  have  been 
a  hitching  post  or  an  empty  molasses  barrel  for  all  she 
showed.  It  was  sure  kind  of  pitiful  to  watch.  I  men- 
tioned it  to  Tracy  one  day  and  he  couldn't  help  owning  that 
it  was  a  pity. 

"  My  wife  says  she  ain't  been  like  the  same  girl  or  much 
of  any  kind  of  girl  since  they  split  up,"  he  told  me.  "  I'm 
afraid  Benny  has  got  a  hankering  after  her  too,  but  I  hope 
he  don't  give  in  to  it.  Him  beating  up  them  fellows  looks 
bad  to  me.  But  I  glory  in  his  spunk,"  he  says.  "  I  wish  I 
had  some  of  it  myself.  Some  day  maybe  I  will  make  a 
break.  Oh,  pa  and  the  boys  has  got  'em  hoodooed." 

It  wasn't  long  after  that,  though,  that  pa  missed  his  step 
and  fell  quite  a  heap  in  Abilene's  esteem.  There  wasn't  no 
doubt  that  Benny  was  making  money.  Folks  talked  about  it 


270  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

and  old  Peemiller  at  the  bank  couldn't  be  too  sugary  when 
him  and  Benny  met.  Then  it  got  out  about  Benny's  uncle 
in  Texas  and  all  of  this  got  to  pa's  ears  and  set  him  to 
thinking.  One  day  he  come  round  pumping  me,  but  my 
valves  was  dry  that  day  and  he  didn't  get  much. 

"  It's  a  pity  though  that  him  and  Abilene  had  to  fuss," 
says  pa.  "  Abilene  is  sure  quick  tempered  and  she  can't 
take  a  joke  like  you  and  me  and  she  says  more  than  she 
means  sometimes,  but  that  ain't  no  reason  why  loving  hearts 
should  be  sundered.  I  think  a  heap  of  Benny  —  always 
did." 

I  reckon  he  mistrusted  I  wouldn't  carry  the  glad  tidings 
to  Benny  and  allowed  he'd  do  it  himself  and  be  sure  they 
got  to  the  right  party.  Where  he  made  his  big  mistake  was 
having  Abilene  along.  They  had  come  into  town  on  one 
of  their  trading  trips  and  pa  was  just  pulling  up  his  team 
in  front  of  Palmer's  grocery  when  Benny  come  along  with 
his  hat  brim  drawed  down  over  his  eyes.  He  was  a-walking 
past  when  pa  hailed  him. 

"Why,  hello,  Benny!"  he  says  real  jovial  and  hearty. 
"  Getting  so  proud  you  won't  notice  your  friends  ?  Why 
ain't  you  ever  been  over  to  the  ranch  since  you  got  back  to 
give  an  account  of  yourself  ?  " 

Benny  stopped  short  in  his  tracks  and  looked  at  him  — 
looked  at  him  like  I  don't  want  nobody  to  look  at  me. 

"  I  reckon  you  know  why,"  he  says.  "  Kind  of  funny  for 
you  to  ask." 

"  Shucks !  "  says  pa.  "  Let  bygones  be  bygones.  Hard 
words  don't  break  no  bones,  the  way  I  look  at  it,  and  I  know 
you  didn't  mean  the  half  of  what  you  said.  Here's  Abilene 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  271 

will  tell  you  the  same  thing.  You  two  young  folks  don't 
want " 

Abilene  had  been  looking  down  the  street  with  her  under- 
lip  clamped  tight  between  her  teeth.  Right  here  she  cut 
in: 

"  You  give  me  the  lines  and  I'll  drive  on  while  you  get 
out  and  lick  Mr.  Tucker's  boots,"  she  says. 

Benny  turned  and  looked  at  her  and  lifted  his  hat  sober 
and  respectful. 

"  I  hate  this  on  your  account,  ma'am,"  he  says.  "  I 
reckon  Mr.  Pirbright  knows  right  well  I  meant  what  I  said. 
I  ain't  never  changed  my  mind  in  regard  to  him  —  nor  yet 
in  regards  to  you,"  he  says,  looking  hard  at  her.  "  You  re- 
member that  part  of  it  too." 

She  smiled  at  him  —  and  I  don't  want  no  woman  to  smile 
at  me  that-a-way  either.  Benny  lifted  his  hat  again  and 
walked  on  and  Pa  Pirbright  turned  in  the  wagon  seat,  his 
face  purple,  and  shook  his  fist  after  him. 

"  I'll  cut  your  heart  out  for  that,  Mr.  Tucker,"  he  says 
under  his  breath.  "  I'll  cut  your  heart  out  and  eat  it.  You 
wait!" 

"  You'll  cut  your  regular  victuals  same  as  usual  and  eat 
them  as  hearty  as  if  you  worked  for  them,"  says  Abilene. 

Pa  whirled  round  on  her,  but  checked  up  when  he  seen 
her  face. 

I  don't  know  just  when  it  was  that  talk  started  about 
Benny  Tucker  rustling  cattle.  It  come  by  degrees  —  a  jok- 
ing remark  here  and  a  hint  there  —  mostly  among  the  stock- 
men. The  big  outfits  was  working  together  more  or  less 


272  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

and  I  reckon  they  didn't  favor  common  cow  hands  that  was 
fired  on  suspicion  setting  up  for  themselves  independent. 
And  there  was  sure  signs  and  tokens  of  rustling  —  like  there 
always  has  been.  And  innocent  folks  suspicioned  —  like 
there  always  will  be  —  and  a  close-mouthed  man  that  ain't 
sociable  and  tends  to  his  own  business,  like  Benny  had  got 
to  be,  is  as  likely  to  be  suspicioned  as  anybody  else. 
Whether  or  no,  there  was  talk  and  it  grew  and  the  Pirbright 
boys  and  an  outfit  named  Davis  at  the  head  of  Calico  Canon 
was  a  considerable  mixed  up  in  the  talk  about  Benny. 
Some  allowed  that  Benny  and  the  Pirbrights  just  let  on  to 
be  on  bad  terms  as  a  blind  —  plumb  foolishness,  but  that 
was  the  talk  for  quite  a  while. 

Then  one  cloudy  afternoon  Jim  Harmon,  the  sheriff, 
walked  a-past  the  stable  arm  in  arm  with  Mitchell  Pir- 
bright, with  a  few  foot-loose  citizens  of  Blueblanket  trailing 
along  behind.  Mitchell's  right  hand  was  wrapped  round 
with  a  red  handkerchief  and  stuck  in  the  bosom  of  his  shirt. 
He  was  grinning,  but  it  didn't  look  natural.  Then  him  and 
Jim  turned  into  Doc  Ammerman's  office  and  when  they  come 
out  they  went  on  up  to  the  jail.  Seemed  like  Mitchel  and 
two  other  boys  was  engaged  in  cutting  up  a  steer  that  morn- 
ing and  Harmon  and  a  couple  of  deputies  happened  along 
kind  of  all  at  once  and  unexpected  and  asked  them  to  put 
up  their  hands.  Mitchell  didn't  put  his  high  enough  and 
Harmon's  second  shot  got  Mitchell's  trigger  guard  and 
trigger  finger  and  lodged  in  the  palm  of  his  hand.  The  two 
deputies  must  have  got  buck  fever.  Anyway  they  had  run- 
ning marks  to  shoot  at  and  the  marks  got  to  their  horses  and 
kept  right  on  a-running  and  got  clear  away,  the  both  of 
them.  That  was  all  there  was  to  it  —  excepting 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  273 

Well,  it  gave  folks  something  to  talk  about.  Along  about 
eight  o'clock  Pa  Pirbright  come  into  town  from  the  valley 
with  Magdalena  and  Sacora  and  Endora  and  young  Dave 
and  they  all  went  up  to  Tracy  O'Neill's  house  without  stop- 
ping. Ten  minutes  after  they  got  there  Tracy  come  out  in  a 
hurry  and  talking  to  himself  and  the  heavenly  powers  and 
headed  for  town  and  went  up  to  his  office  and  locked  the 
door.  All  a  body  could  make  out  was  he'd  lit  a  lamp.  Then 
a  bulletin  come  into  Mike's  that  pa  had  gone  up  to  the  jail 
as  a  visitor,  and  finally  there  was  another  report  that  the 
deputies  had  arrested  a  Davis  boy  and  Benny  Tucker  over 
at  Buffalo  Gap. 

Just  about  that  time  about  ten  billion  tons  of  black  powder 
was  touched  off  somewheres  overhead,  seemed  like,  and  all 
the  water  in  the  world  that  wasn't  being  used  for  oceans 
and  creeks  and  such  begun  to  come  down  on  a  large  section 
of  the  foothills  country  with  a  hurrah.  Right  away  public 
interest  was  turned  to  getting  home  as  dry  as  possible  and 
setting  the  tubs  out  under  the  eaves.  I  made  a  quick  run 
over  to  the  stable  and  let  the  boy  go  that  I'd  left  in  charge. 
Then  I  sat  down  with  my  pipe  and  studied  over  happenings 
between  claps  of  thunder  and  the  darndest  lightning  ever  I 
see.  I  didn't  take  a  heap  of  stock  in  the  report  that  Benny 
had  been  arrested,  account  of  seeing  Benny  go  into  Ma 
Frush's  for  supper  after  he'd  left  his  horse  with  me.  He 
couldn't  have  got  a  third  of  the  way  to  the  Gap,  even  with 
the  horse,  no  matter  how  much  he  wanted  to  get  arrested. 
But  it  looked  like  there  was  trouble  ahead  for  the  Pirbright 
family,  especially  if  Tracy  O'Neill  kicked  out  on  defending 
Mitchell,  which  I  judged  he  had. 

From  where  I  sat  I  could  see  the  light  still  burning  in 


274  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

Tracy's  office  over  the  hardware  store  after  eleven  o'clock, 
and  once  I  put  on  a  slicker  intending  to  go  over  there  and 
break  in  on  the  boy's  meditations,  but  as  soon  as  I  put  my 
nose  outside  the  drive  of  the  rain  and  the  rush  of  the  new- 
born Main  Street  river  sort  of  discouraged  me.  Still  some 
way  I  didn't  feel  like  going  to  bed,  but  I  must  have  dozed 
off  just  the  same,  because  the  first  thing  I  knew  was  some- 
body a-rapping  on  the  window  with  the  head  of  a  quirt  and 
a  horse's  hoofs  stomping  round  on  the  plank  sidewalk.  I 
got  up  and  throwed  the  door  open  and  in  rides  a  woman 
drenched  and  running  streams  from  every  tag  and  end  of 
her  and  her  horse.  I  held  up  the  lantern,  and  lo  and  behold, 
it  was  Abilene  Pirbright ! 

"  I'm  all  right  now,  Mr.  Stegg,"  she  says.  "  Don't  ask 
me  no  question,  please.  I  just  rode  in  from  the  valley  — 
on  some  particular  business.  I  know  you'll  do  me  a  favor, 
won't  you  ?  " 

She  couldn't  have  asked  me  one  I  wouldn't  have  done  — 
not  in  that  pitiful  trembly  voice.  I  told  her  so. 

"  But  you'll  catch  your  death,  honey,"  I  says.  "  Let  me 
take  you  up  to  your  sister  Belle's  —  the  rest  of  your  folks  is 
up  there." 

"  It's  Tracy  I  want  to  see,"  she  says.  "  I  seen  a  light  in 
his  office  as  I  come  a-past,  but  I'm  afraid  pa  is  in  there,  or 
some  of  the  boys.  Will  you  come  over  with  me  and  go 
up  first  and  if  pa's  there  call  Tracy  out?  Now  —  right 
away ! " 

I  wouldn't  right  away.  Nor  I  wouldn't  let  her.  I  made 
her  come  into  the  office  first  and  choke  down  a  drop  of  some- 
thing I  kept  in  case  of  sickness  and  it  done  her  good. 

"  Now  about  dry  clothes,"  I  says. 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  275 

''  Don't  be  foolish,"  she  says  with  a  flash  of  temper.  "  If 
you  don't  want  to  go  with  me  I'll  go  alone." 

I  pulled  a  fur  coat  down  from  a  peg. 

"  This  will  keep  you  from  chilling  anyway,"  I  says,  and 
held  it  out.  Just  as  she  was  putting  her  arms  in  the  sleeves 
she  stopped. 

"  Whose   coat  is  that  ? "  she  asked. 

I  told  her  it  belonged  to  a  friend  of  mine  who  wouldn't 
mind  her  using  it  and  as  I  was  getting  a  spare  slicker  to 
throw  over  it  I  saw  her  lay  her  cheek  for  a  moment  against 
the  old  wolfskin.  Then  I  put  on  a  slicker  myself  and  we 
waded  to  Tracy's  and  she  stood  in  the  hallway  while  I  went 
up  the  stairs  and  knocked  at  Tracy's  door  after  I  found  it 
locked.  I  had  to  knock  two  or  three  times. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  want  this  time  in  the  morning?  " 
asks  Tracy,  when  he  opened  the  door. 

"  Nothing  much,"  I  says.  I  looked  at  the  open  books  on 
the  table.  The  room  was  thick  with  smoke  and  Tracy  had 
a  long  stogy  in  his  mouth  in  full  blast.  The  door  of  the 
little  private  room  at  the  back  was  shut,  I  noticed. 

"  I  thought  Mr.  David  Pirbright,  Senior,  might  be  here," 
I  says. 

"  I  guess  he  knows  better  than  that,"  Tracy  snaps. 
"  This  office  is  one  good  place  not  to  waste  time  looking  for 
Pirbrights  from  this  on.  You  might  try  my  happy  home. 
Look  in  the  best  bed  there  is  in  the  house.  If  pa's  there 
that's  where  you'll  find  him." 

"  I  don't  need  him,"  I  says.  "  I've  got  a  caller  here  for 
you  —  on  business." 

I  walked  to  the  door  intending  to  call  Abilene,  but  she  had 
already  come  up.  When  I  opened  it  she  walked  in.  Tracy 


276  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

was  a  considerable  took  aback,  but  he  braced  up  and  scowled 
at  her. 

"  It  ain't  no  use,  Abilene,"  he  said.  "  You  might  as  well 
save  your  breath.  They've  all  been  at  me  and  Belle  says 
she'll  get  a  divorce,  but  I've  told  'em  I'm  through,  and  I  am. 
You  get  out  of  here  like  a  good  girl,  because  I  ain't  going  to 
listen  to  you." 

"  Excuse  me,  Tracy,"  I  says.  "  I  don't  want  to  seem 
officious  or  arrogant,  but  you're  a-going  to  listen  as  long  as 
she  wants  to  talk  and  I'm  right  here  to  see  that  you  do. 
Here's  a  girl  that's  just  rode  sixteen  miles  at  black  midnight 
through  this  devil's  brew  of  a  storm  and  over  a  road  that 
forked  off  right  or  left  into  eternity  every  hundred  yards 
or  less.  She  does  that  all  by  herself,  without  no  regard  for 
life  or  limb,  to  speak  for  her  own  flesh-and-blood  brother 
and  you  tell  her  you  won't  listen  to  her.  Oh,  I  reckon  you 
will!" 

"  You  don't  say  you  rode  in  from  the  ranch !  "  says  Tracy. 
"  Why,  Abilene,  you  poor,  fool  girl  —  and  you're  wet  as  a 
drowned  rat !  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  " 

"  Not  on  Mitchell's  account,"  says  Abilene.  "  I'll  tell  you 
that  to  start  with.  I  wouldn't  walk  ten  steps  on  a  bright 
summer  day  to  save  him  from  being  sent  up  for  twenty 
years.  Now  don't  you  fuss  about  me  being  wet.  I'm  warm 
in  this  coat.  You  just  pay  attention  to  what  I'm  saying. 
It's  Benny  Tucker  I  want  to  keep  out  of  jail  and  it's  my  own 
father  and  brothers  that  has  been  fixing  up  a  dirty  lying 
scheme  to  put  him  there." 

We  was  certainly  struck  of  a  heap  —  I  was.  Tracy  was 
the  first  to  speak. 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  277 

"  Some  folks  had  better  stay  where  they  happen  to  be 
until  they're  called  on,"  he  says. 

"  I'm  not  that  way,"  says  Abilene.  "  When  Crawford 
got  to  bragging  after  the  folks  had  gone,  and  let  it  out,  I 
wasn't  going  to  wait  to  be  called.  He  tried  to  stop  me  and 
I  took  a  stick  of  stove  wood  to  him,  if  you  want  to  know, 
and  if  he's  hurt  bad  it's  his  own  fault.  And  I  pushed  ma 
into  her  room  and  locked  the  door,"  she  says.  "  I  saw  her 
getting  through  the  window  by  the  first  flash  of  lightning 
just  as  I  started,  but  all  that  doesn't  matter.  What  pa  and 
the  boys  cooked  up  was  to  butcher  a  steer  out  on  the  range 
and  go  off  leaving  it  as  if  they  had  got  scared,  and  whoever 
come  up  and  found  it  would  find  Benny's  old  wagon  that  he 
loaned  to  pa  a  year  ago  standing  close  by  and  Benny's  Billy 
horse  that  Val  borrowed  from  him  and  got  all  sore  backed 
so's  Bennie  had  to  turn  him  loose  on  the  range  tied  up  to 
the  wagon  wheel  along  with  the  Oregon  horse  that  he  rode 
in  from  Milk  River.  They'd  catched  up  that  horse,  too,  and 
they'd  dumped  Benny's  saddle  in  the  wagon,  the  one  he'd 
let  Mitchell  have  and  Mitchell  never  gave  back  —  and  there 
would  be  a  knife  of  Benny's  stuck  in  the  steer.  The  devils! 

"  Well,  it  seems  like  they  hadn't  figured  on  Sheriff  Har- 
mon slipping  up  on  them  and  so  Mitchell  got  shot  up  and 
they  nearly  got  Val  and  Lem  Davis.  But  they're  going  to 
hang  it  on  to  Benny,  just  the  same,  if  they  can  —  a  man 
that's  as  straight  as  a  string  and  never  did  a  crooked  thing 
or  spoke  a  crooked  word  in  his  life!" 

"  Lay  low !  "  says  Tracy.  "  I  mean,  how  do  you  know  he 
ain't  crooked?  There's  been  talk  of  him  rustling,  I  can  tell 
you  that." 


278  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

"  If  he's  crooked  there  ain't  no  straight  nowhere,"  says 
Abilene.  "If  he's  a  thief  I  wouldn't  trust  the  Angel  Gabriel 
with  a  copper  cent.  If  he's  a  liar  the  truth  ain't  never  been 
spoke.  He  may  have  been  a  fool  for  ever  mixing  himself 
up  with  the  Pirbrights  on  account  of  a  girl  that  wasn't  worth 
a  second  thought  from  a  man  like  him,  but  he's  got  bravely 
over  that,  and  I  —  I  deserve  it.  If  you're  against  him  just 
say  so,  but  I  give  you  notice  right  now  that  I'm  on  his  side 
while  there's  breath  in  my  body  and  against  kin  and " 

She  stopped  and  gave  a  little  scream. 

The  door  of  Tracy's  private  room  had  opened  and  out 
walked  Benny  Tucker. 

"  I  ain't  a-going  to  stay  where  I  happen  to  be  until  I'm 
called  on  and  I  ain't  a-going  to  lay  low  no  longer,"  he  says 
to  Tracy. 

Then  he  walked  up  to  Abilene  and  caught  her  in  his 
arms. 

"  On  my  side  and  by  my  side  from  this  on,"  he  says. 

In  a  moment  or  so  he  looked  back  at  us  over  his  shoulder. 

"You  two  ain't  needed  here  for  a  while,"  he  told  us. 
"  We've  got  things  to  say." 

"  So  have  I,"  says  Tracy  coolly.  "  And  not  much  time  to 
say  them,"  he  says.  "  You  sit  down  in  that  chair,  Abilene, 
and  Benny,  you  sit  here  on  this  side  of  the  table.  Well, 
sit  where  you  like,  but  pay  attention  to  me.  The  rest  of 
that  will  have  to  keep.  Abilene,  you  ain't  chilling  in  them 
wet  clothes  ?  " 

She  certainly  didn't  look  as  if  she  was  and  she  said  she 
wasn't.  She  was  a-glowing  like  a  June  rose  and  I'd  have 
sworn  she  was  five  years  younger  than  she  had  been  five 
minutes  before.  She  showed  Benny  the  coat  she  was  wear- 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  279 

ing,  pushing  her  little  hand  out  of  the  sleeve.  Benny  took 
it  and  kissed  it. 

"  When  you're  ready,  I'll  begin,"  says  Tracy,  and  they 
turned  to  him,  but  they  kept  hand  in  hand. 

"  I  know  all  you  told  me,"  says  Tracy  to  Abilene. 
"  Sheriff  Harmon  told  me  about  the  wagon  and  the  horses 
and  all  the  rest  of  it,  and  what's  more,  Mitchell  has  made 
a  confession  implicating  Benny,  and  Val  and  Lem  Davis 
bear  him  out.  They've  got  Wirtz,  the  Dutch  butcher  at 
Buffalo  Gap,  to  testify  that  Benny  told  him  he  was  a-going 
to  have  some  meat  for  him  cheap,  but  he  was  to  keep  his 
head  closed  about  it.  The  boys  thought  the  steer  belonged 
to  Benny  and  he  hadn't  had  time  to  vent  it.  Benny  was  the 
brains  and  they  was  the  poor  but  honest  dupes." 

"  See  here,"  says  Benny,  "  all  this  is  plumb  foolishness, 
because " 

"Keep  still!"  Tracy  barked  at  him.  "I'm  doing  the 
talking."  He  shook  his  finger  in  Benny's  face.  "  I  say  it 
looks  mighty  bad  for  you ;  I  say  the  evidence  is  clear  against 
you ;  I  say  Sheriff  Harmon  thinks  so  and  I  say  that  if  you're 
here  you'll  be  arrested  the  first  thing  in  the  morning  —  this 
morning,  by  Godfrey!  And  if  the  case  comes  to  trial,  you'll 
go  over  the  road.  Who  knows  about  this,  you  or  me  ?  " 

"  But  — "  Benny  begins. 

"  I  say,  keep  your  mouth  shut,"  Tracy  roared.  "  What 
was  you  going  to  say,  my  dear  ?  "  he  asks  Abilene. 

"  I  can  prove  that  they  made  it  all  up  between  them  to 
get  Benny  into  trouble,"  she  says,  white  and  trembling 
again. 

Tracy  smiled  at  her  sadly. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  can't,"  he  says.    "  What  you  have  is  just 


280  BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE 

hearsay,  not  proof.  Your  word  against  theks,  and  they'll 
outswear  you.  No,  I'm  afraid  Benny  is  due  to  spend  a  year 
or  two  behind  the  bars.  I've  been  advising  him  to  leave  the 
country,  but  he's  obstinate  and  he  won't  go,  he  says  —  didn't 
you,  Benny  ?  " 

He  gave  Benny  a  queer  look  and  a  quick  wink  and  Abilene 
turned  her  head. 

"  Why  wouldn't  you,  Benny  ?  "  she  asked  him. 

"  I  could  stand  Harmon  off  if  once  Benny  got  clear  of 
town,"  says  Tracy.  "  He  could  go  to  Texas  and  stay  there. 
I  could  look  after  his  interests  here.  He  'Could  make  .the 
morning  train  east  at  Hermosilla  if  he  could  find  somebody 
to  drive  him  over  there.  But  he's  mule-headed." 

"  Why  won't  you  go,  Benny  darling  ?  "  she  asks  him. 

"  And  leave  you  ?  "  he  says. 

"  Would  you  want  me  to  go  along  with  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

Tracy  got  up. 

"  Come  on,  Stegg,"  he  says  to  me.     "  I  can't  stand  this." 

And  with  that  we  went  out  and  left  them  to  say  the  things 
they  had  to  say  and  hurried  over  to  the  stable.  It  had  quit 
raining  and  the  stars  was  shining  above  the  false  dawn. 
Tracy  laughed  and  thumped  me  on  the  back  and  I  thumped 
him. 

"  Funny  how  that  come  out,"  he  says.  "  Benny  and  I 
were  talking  all  this  mess  over  and  when  you  knocked  he 
thought  it  might  be  pa  and  went  into  the  back  room.  I 
didn't  lie  to  Abilene  either  —  not  much.  Pa  and  Mitchell 
and  the  rest  is  sure  trying  to  hang  it  onto  Benny,  but  the 
tangle  of  stories  they're  telling  is  plumb  ridiculous.  Harmon 
laughed  his  sides  sore  telling  me  about  it.  Mitchell  will 
go  this  time,  and  Crawford  and  Val,  too,  and  two  of  the 


BENNY  AND  HER  FAMILEE  281 

Davis  gang.  Maybe  Wirtz.  Wirtz  has  forgot  the  conver- 
sation he  didn't  have  with  Benny  already  though.  Young 
Dave  will  probably  behave  himself  and  pa's  harmless  and 
the  girls  will  both  marry  off  before  long.  So  I'm  free  and 
this  time  next  year  I'll  be  in  the  legislature  —  maybe !  Yip- 
pee! Get  the  stoutest  team  you've  got  and  the  strongest 
double-seat  rig.  The  roads  will  be  pretty  tough  between 
here  and  Hermosilla. 

"  Better  throw  in  a  spade  and  an  ax  —  and  hustle !  " 

"  You  going  along  ?  "  I  asked  as  I  walked  the  team  out. 

"  Cert !  "  says  he.  "  Got  to  get  'em  married  before  train 
time  and  I  may  have  to  get  Benny  some  currency.  He  had 
figured  on  the  trip  to  Texas  and  back  anyway,  and  he  may  be 
heeled,  but  maybe  not.  And  Abilene  will  have  to  buy  her 
some  duds.  I'm  going  to  tell  her  that  she  can't  write  home 
from  Texas,  account  of  putting  the  bloodhounds  of  the  law 
on  Benny's  track,"  he  giggled.  "  Hustle,  or  somebody  may 
wake  up  and  tell  her  that  the  boy  ain't  in  no  danger." 

"  There's  one  thing  I'm  afraid  of,"  I  says  as  I  hooked  the 
check  reins.  "  Benny  may  get  mad  at  her  some  time  in  the 
dim  after  years  and  throw  her  family  in  her  face.  That's 
all  I  see  threatening  a  long  and  happy  married  life  for 
them." 

"  You  know  that  uncle  of  Benny's?  "  says  Tracy.  "  He 
didn't  die  —  not  to  say  die." 

"  No  ? "  I  says,  considerable  took  aback. 

"  No,"  says  Tracy.  "  They  hung  him  for  stealing 
horses." 


VII 
TOBERMORY 

JIMMY  GOOD- VOICE-FLUTE  had' been  pestering  the 
trader  for  gratuitous  cigarettes  for  at  least  half  an  hour 
after  he  had  got  all  that  was  coming  to  him  for  his  beaver 
pelts,  and  when  he  surreptitiously  slipped  a  dollar-and-fifty- 
cent  skinning  knife  under  his  blanket  and  tried  to  look  in- 
nocent the  trader's  patience  gave  out  completely.  The  old 
bullwhacker  watched  the  ensuing  action  with  grave  interest, 
and  even  left  his  seat  on  a  nail  keg  by  the  stove  to  view  the 
continuation  of  the  proceedings  'outside  the  store.  He 
viewed  them  from  the  inside,  however,  through  a  clear  patch 
that  he  rubbed  on  the  frost-covered  window,  first  closing 
the  door  to  keep  out  the  zero  cold. 

It  was  an  interesting  spectacle.  It  takes  an  active  and 
speedy  white  person  to  keep  within  kicking  distance  of  a 
running  Oglala  Indian  in  the  prime  of  life  and  good  condi- 
tion. To  actually  kick  him  three  times  and  make  up  the 
ground  lost  on  each  occasion,  which  the  trader  did,  consti- 
tutes a  record  performance.  The  course  ran  over  ground 
covered  with  a  light  snow,  around  the  hay  corral  and  to  the 
steep  bank  overhanging  the  creek,  Jimmy  demonstrating  the 
aptness  of  the  first  two-thirds  of  his  family  name  as  they 
went.  The  trader  stopped  at  the  creek  bank;  the  Indian 
went  on,  down  and  through. 

Hi 


TOBERMORY  283 

When  the  breathless  advance  agent  of  commerce  returned 
the  old  bullwhacker  complimented  him  on  his  form,  but 
deprecated  his  violence. 

"  I  was  something  of  a  foot  racer  myself  when  I  was 
some  younger,"  he  said,  "  but  I  don't  believe  I'd  have  allowed 
you  much  of  a  handicap.  Nevertheless,  Ike,  a  man  hadn't 
ought  to  let  his  heels  outrun  his  head  like  you  done.  I 
reckon  it's  no  more  than  natural  and  human  for  to  feel  a 
mite  peevish  once  in  a  spell.  We  can't  all  be  like  Old  Man 
Tobermory,  but  we  can  smother  our  honest  feelings,  sort 
of  —  or  we  ought  to  could  —  when  it  ain't  to  our  interest 
to  show  'em." 

"  Who's  Tobermory  ?  "  inquired  the  trader,  picking  up 
the  skinning  knife  and  returning  it  to  stock. 

"  When  Young-Man-Afraid-of-the-Soap  has  got  you 
knotted  up  in  rawhide  and  wired  to  a  sapling  you'll  be 
sorry  for  this,"  pursued  the  old  bullwhacker,  shaking  his 
head  with  much  seriousness.  "  When  the  squaws  are  sing- 
ing happy  little  songs  as  they  stick  lighted  pine  splinters 
into  your  shrinking  form  you'll  be  a-cursing  of  the  day 
when  you  humbled  the  haughty  spirit  of  the  noble  red 
man." 

"  Who's  Tobermory  ?  "  repeated  the  trader. 
"  When  the  Bad  face  band  exhumes  the  tomahawk  and 
the  shrill  warwhoops  is  a-ringing  through  the  forest  aisles 
you'll  regret  that  you  hadn't  extended  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship   to  him   instead   of   the   sole   of  your  number 
nine,"  the  old  bullwhacker  went  on.     "  An  Injun  has  got 
his  feelings,  the  same  as  you  and  me,  and  you  injured  that 
one  in  a  tender  and  sensitive  spot,  Ike." 
"  I  aimed  to,"  replied  the  trader.    "  Who " 


284  TOBERMORY 

"  You've  just  about  forfeited  his  friendship,"  sighed  the 
old  bullwhacker.  "  He  won't  be  easy  now  until  he's  got 
red  hair  hanging  in  his  tepee.  Is  this  here  shack  insured  ?  " 

"  You  never  stopped  to  listen  when  folks  got  to  talking 
about  me,"  remarked  the  trader.  "  I  come  into  the  Man- 
dan  Territory  before  I  growed  hair  of  any  color  at  all,  and 
I  was  eating  baled  hay  without  spitting  out  the  wire  be- 
fore I  was  three  years  old.  All  I  wear  boots  for  is  the  looks 
of  the  thing.  Who  was  Tobermory?  I  was  asking  you." 

"  That's  what  I'm  trying  to  tell  you,"  said  the  old  bull- 
whacker.  "  Well,  he  was  a  man  that  wouldn't  never  have 
treated  nobody  the  way  you  done  a  while  ago.  He  was 
mild  and  gentle  in  his  ways,  Old  Man  Tobermory  was. 
Moses  wasn't  nothing  to  him  for  meekness,  and  he  claimed 
that  Job,  seemed  like  to  him,  was  a  lee-eetle  mite  disposed 
to  kick  on  slight  provocation.  Not  that  he  wanted  to  criti- 
cize Mr.  Job  or  be  finding  fault  with  him,  but  —  well,  it 
seemed  like  Satan  might  have  made  out  a  tolerable  case 
against  him  if  he  had  wanted  to  bad  enough.  '  Still,'  says 
Tobermory,  '  I  got  to  own  that  I  never  had  no  boils  myself 
on  me.'  Then  he  strokes  his  old  gray  whiskers  all  the  way . 
down  from  his  chin  to  the  buttons  on  his  pants.  '  I  reckon 
mabbe  it's  because  I've  always  et  a  heap  of  corn  bread  and 
sorghum  molasses  with  the  rest  of  my  victuals;  what  do 
you  reckon?  How  does  a  fellow  go  about  it  to  get  boils, 
anyway?  I'd  like  to  try  'em.'  You  see  he  sort  of  prided 
himself  on  being  patient. 

"  Well,  he  come  into  the  territory  from  Missouri  or  Iowa 
or  somewheres  —  him  and  his  old  woman  and  the  two  boys 
—  and  they  settled  on  the  Belle  Fourche,  near  where  the 
Gooseneck  Ranch  was.  If  you'll  believe  me  he  broke  forty- 


TOBERMORY  285 

odd  acres  of  sod  with  a  yoke  of  balky  steers  and  never  said 
a  word  out  of  the  way.  What's  more,  he  kept  good  friends 
with  the  man  who  sold  him  them  steers  and  told  him  they'd 
pull  the  tongue  out  of  a  wagon  —  friends  with  him  for  years 
after.  Lent  him  money,  by  Godfrey !  " 

"  Did  you  ever  pay  him  back  ?  "  inquired  the  trader. 

"Do  you  want  to  hear  about  this?"  demanded  the  old 
bullwhacker.  "  All  right  then !  One  day  he  went  out  to  the 
pasture  where  he'd  had  ten  head  of  three-year-old  colts  and 
found  the  fence  wire  cut  and  the  colts  gone. 

"  '  Too  bad ! '  he  says.  '  Too  bad !  Well,  the  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  taketh  away.  I  ain't  got  no  kick  coming.' 

"  His  biggest  boy,  Arch,  who  was  with  him,  was  nosing 
round  the  tracks  where  the  wire  was  cut.  '  The  Lord  didn't 
take  'em  away,'  says  Arch.  '  It  was  a  couple  of  sons-of 
guns  riding  half -shod  ponies.  See  if  it  wasn't!  And  they 
headed  straight  for  no  place  they  could  ride  round  that  was 
anyways  populous,  the  way  their  trail  runs.  I  reckon  we 
might  tag  along  after  them,  just  out  of  curiosity,  paw.  You 
fog  along  and  I'll  go  to  the  house  and  get  you  a  gun  and 
overtake  you.' 

"  *  What  do  I  want  with  a  gun  ?  '  asks  Tobermory.  '  This 
ain't  the  Fourth  of  July  for  to  make  a  joyful  noise,  and  we 
ain't  out  after  meat.  I'm  sorry  to  see  you  getting  notions 
like  that  into  your  head,  sonny.  If  them  Sabeans  need 
them  colts  worse  than  what  I  do  they're  welcome  to  them; 
but  I  don't  know  that  it  wouldn't  be  just  as  well  to  explain  to 
them  that  I'm  a  poor  man  and  leave  it  to  their  better  feelings 
whether  it  wouldn't  be  the  right  thing  for  them  to  let  us 
take  'em  back  —  if  we  catch  up  with  them.' 

" '  All  right,  pappy,'  says  Arch.     '  If  you'd  sooner  talk 


286  TOBERMORY 

'em  to  death  than  kill  'em  outright  I'm  agreeable.  I  guess 
they  deserve  it  —  the  naughty,  bad,  wicked  things !  I  don't 
blame  you  for  feeling  sort  of  vindictive/ 

"  '  Why,  Archie ! '  says  Tobermory.  '  Why,  boy,  I  ain't 
feeling  a  particle  vindictive.  I  can't  figure  how  in  time  you 
should  think  such  a  thing  as  that  of  me.  No,  I  ain't  mad  at 
'em.  All  I  said  was  that  I'd  tell  'em  how  things  was  with 
me.  They  hadn't  ought  to  mind  that.  Do  you  reckon 
they'd  mind  —  if  I  just  told  'em?  You  know  we  really  do 
need  them  colts,  Archie.  'Course  we  could  get  along  with- 
out 'em,  but ' 

"  Arch  had  got  too  far  ahead  to  hear  good,  so  he  stopped 
talking  and  followed  along  the  trail,  which  was  tolerable 
plain  so  that  the  boy  was  making  right  good  time.  It  was 
all  Tobermory  could  do  to  keep  him  in  sight.  The  balance 
of  the  morning  they  rode  about  south  and  an  hour  after 
noon  they  come  into  sight  of  Bear  Butte  and  pretty  soon 
Arch  pulled  up  at  the  top  of  a  rise. 

" '  Look  over  there,'  he  says,  pointing  with  his  finger,  and 
there  about  a  mile  away  they  made  out  a  bunch  of  horses  and 
some  men  milling  round  under  some  cottonwoods. 

" '  There's  more  than  ten  head  there,  and  there's  more 
than  two  men,'  says  Tobermory ;  and  then  he  seen  that  Arch 
had  got  a  little  Spencer  carbine  under  his  leg  and  was  pull- 
ing it  out.  '  I'd  like  for  you  to  put  that  back,  Archie,'  he 
says.  '  Remember,  them  that  takes  the  sword  shall  perish 
by  the  sword,  and  the  same  applies  to  guns.  I  didn't  see 
you  had  that  when  we  started  or  I'd  have  asked  you  to  leave 
it  at  home.' 

" '  We  might  as  well  go  back  then,'  says  Arch,  reining 
round.  '  I  feel  bashful  when  I  met  a  bunch  of  perfect 


TOBERMORY  287 

strangers  and  ain't  properly  attired  and  fixed  up  like  other 
men;  and'J  bet  that  every  last  one  of  them  fellows  is  wear- 
ing the  very  latest  styles  in  artillery  and  has  got  'em  on 
straight.  Let's  go  home,  pappy.' 

"  '  All  right,  son,'  says  Tobermory.  '  Tell  ma  to  set  out 
a  bite  for  me  on  the  table  and  not  to  wait  up.'  Saying 
which  he  trots  along  toward  the  cottonwoods.  Arch  made 
a  move  to  pull  out  the  carbine  again,  but  he  was  a  good  boy 
and  'most  always  done  what  his  daddy  told  him,  so  he  just 
cussed  a  streak  and  then  put  out  after  the  old  gentleman; 
and  they  both  arrived  together,  just  at  the  same  time  that 
Black  Jack  Frushin  kicked  his  last  at  the  looped  end  of  a 
rope  that  was  slung  over  a  limb  of  one  of  the  trees. 

"  The  party  consisted  of  Alonzo  Dolby  and  his  merry 
little  band  of  stranglers,  who  had  accidentally  happened 
on  Frushin  and  a  partner  of  his,  name  of  Gus  Minnick,  who 
was  driving  four  other  horses  besides  the  Tobermory  ten, 
all  with  brands  that  wasn't  vented,  and  no  good  excuse. 
They  had  give  the  boys  a  fair  —  well,  a  fair-to-middling 
trial,  and  had  got  as  far  as  one  up  and  one  to  play  when 
the  Tobermorys  come  up  and  sort  of  diverted  attention. 

"  Dolby  knew  Old  Man  Tobermory  and  gave  him  glad 
welcome.  *  If  we  had  known  you  was  coming  we'd  have 
sure  delayed  the  performance,'  he  says ;  '  but  you  can  have 
a  seat  for  the  second  act,  which  is  just  a-going  to  begin/ 

" '  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you've  hung  that  poor 
boy  just  because  he  had  a  few  cayuses  that  didn't  properly 
belong  to  him  ? '  says  Tobermory  in  horror-struck  tones. 

"  Dolby  said  he  sort  of  reckoned  that  they  had,  kind  of, 
and  asked  him  what  was  his  own  opinion  about  it,  judging 
from  the  looks  of  the  late  Mr.  Frushin. 


288  TOBERMORY 

"  Old  Man  Tobermory  wagged  his  head  mighty  sorrow- 
ful. '  And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you're  figuring  on  hang- 
ing that  one  too  ? '  he  asks,  pointing  with  his  finger  to  Gus 
Minnick,  who  was  all  wound  round  and  waiting. 

" '  You  might  say  we  got  definite  intentions  bordering  on 
decisions  thataway,'  Dolby  told  him.  '  You  see,  Tobe,'  he 
says,  '  we've  got  to  do  something  to  show  that  we  ain't 
approving  this  here  promiscuous  stock-rustling  and  general 
helling  round.  We  don't  want  the  idea  to  get  out  that  we 
don't  take  a  warm  and  practical  interest  in  good  morals. 
We  aim  to  be  an  uplifting  and  elevating  force  in  the  com- 
munity, and  we  will  now  proceed  to  uplift  and  elevate 
Brother  Minnick.' 

"  *  Hold  on,  'Lonzo  ! '  says  Tobermory.  '  I  just  want  to 
say  a  word  or  two  before  you  do  anything  rash.  You  ain't 
agoing  to  improve  no  man's  morals  by  treating  him  as 
if  he  was  a  family  wash.  Once  you've  hung  him  you've 
spoiled  all  his  chances  for  future  usefulness.  He  ain't  go- 
ing to  distinguish  himself  in  no  walk  of  life  you  can  men- 
tion, from  that  out,  the  way  I  look  at  it.  And  what's  more, 
it  ain't  kind  or  considerate,  noways.  You  wouldn't  like 
it  yourself.  No,  sir!  None  of  you  gentlemen  wouldn't.  I 
don't  claim  it's  the  right  thing  to  go  round  gathering  up 
folks'  horses  without  asking  or  saying  something  about  it; 
but  I  don't  believe  Mr.  Minnick  here  has  had  the  advan- 
tages that  some  of  us  has  had,  and  I  believe  he's  sorry  right 
now  that  he  done  so.  And  I  think  if  you  asked  him  he'd 
promise  that  he  wouldn't  do  it  no  more  —  wouldn't  you,  Mr. 
Minnick?  You  think  it  over  and  you'll  see  that  you've 
done  wrong.  You  don't  aim  to  do  wrong,  do  you  ? ' 

*'  Minnick  looked  up  at  Dolby.     *  Do  I  have  to  take  this 


TOBERMORY  289 

as  well  ? '  he  asks.  '  Ain't  this  against  the  constitution  pro- 
viding against  cruel  and  unusual  punishments?  It's  all 
right,  I  suppose,  if  you  say  so.  You've  got  me  tied.' 

" '  I  told  you  so,  pappy,'  whispers  Arch,  nudging  the  old 
man. 

"  *  You  hush,  son ! '  says  Tobermory.  '  I* reckon  he  thinks 
I'm  making  sport  of  him,  which  sure  would  be  a  cruelty 
and  which  I  wouldn't  do  and  ain't.  'Lonzo,  you  turn  this 
boy  loose  and  I'll  take  him  back  to  the  ranch  with  me 
where  he  won't  be  led  asjtray  by  bad  company  and  will 
have  good  books  and  moral  influences  and  steady  work 
and  wages  and  regular  square  meals.  I've  got  a  heap  of 
faith  in  this  boy.  If  I  was  a  betting  man  I'd  be  willing  to 
bet  I  can  reform  him,  even  if  appearances  is  against  him 
now.' 

"  *  We'd  like  to  oblige  you,  Tobe,'  says  Dolby,  '  but 
you're  a  heap  too  hopeful.  All  said  and  done,  Mr.  Minnick 
is  a  horse  thief.' 

" '  All  said  and  done,  they're  mostly  my  horses,'  says 
Tobermory.  '  If  I'm  willing  to  overlook  it  I  guess  you 
gentlemen  ought  to  be.  Now  I'd  just  like  to  say  a  few 
words  to  prove  that  I'm  right  about  this.' 

" '  For  the  love  of  heaven,  let  him  take  the  dirty  son-of- 
a-gun ! '  says  one  of  the  party.  '  A  few  words  is  good  with 
me,  and  he's  sure  said  'em  aplenty.  I  like  to  see  a  good 
lively  hanging  as  well  as  the  next  fellow,  but  I  ain't  agoing 
to  hold  out  for  it  if  Mr.  Tobermory  is  agoing  to  object  at 
any  more  length.' 

"  That  got  another  man  started.  Seemed  like  Minnick 
had  shot  off  the  tip  of  his  ear  and  the  soreness  had  worked 
all  through  his  system.  He  expressed  himself  according, 


290  TOBERMORY 

and  then  Gus  chirped  up  and  told  him  that  his  ears  was  too 
long  anyway.  '  You  certainly  couldn't  expect  me  to  shoot 
you  in  the  brain,'  says  Gus. 

' '  Now  don't  you  boys  get  to  fussing  and  quarreling,' 
says  Tobermory.  '  It  ain't  seemly.  Gus,  you  poor,  mis- 
guided fellow,  are  you  willing  to  come  home  with  me  and 
behave  yourself  ? ' 

"  '  Suits  me,'  says  Gus. 

"  '  There  you  are ! '  says  Old  Man  Tobermory,  as  pleased 
as  pie.  '  He  says  he'll  behave  himself,  and  what  more  could 
you  ask  ? ' 

"  So,  after  a  little  more,  back  and  forth,  they  untied  Gus, 
and  him  and  the  old  man  and  Arch  and  the  colts  started 
back.  Gus  acted  kind  of  quiet  and  thoughtful  for  a  spell. 
They  had  gone  four  or  five  miles  before  he  spoke.  Then 
he  says  to  Old  Man  Tobermory :  '  You  was  mentioning 
wages  a  while  back.  How  much  do  you  reckon  you  want 
to  pay  me,  Mister  Man  ? ' 

"  Arch  heard  him.  '  Why,  you  slit-eyed,  crooked-nosed, 
small-souled,  bandy-legged  blister ! '  says  he.  '  I've  a  notion 
to  drag  you  out  of  that  saddle  and  jam  you  a  yard  and  a 
half  into  the  ground.  Wages ! ' 

"  Gus  slid  his  hand  down  to  his  hip  before  he  took  time 
to  think  that  it  was  waste  motion.  Then  he  remembered 
that  'Lonzo  Dolby  had  forgot  to  return  him  the  personal 
property  that  he  was  reaching  for,  and  spurred  off  to  one 
side  to  avoid  the  rush  that  Arch  started  to  make.  Old 
Man  Tobermory  edged  in  between  them  pretty  lively  and 
told  Arch  to  behave. 

"  '  I'm  perfectly  ashamed  of  you,  son,'  he  said.  '  I  don't 
know  what  on  earth  Mr.  Minnick  is  agoing  to  think  of 


TOBERMORY  291 

such  manners  —  talking  about  a  gentleman's  features  and 
limbs,  what  he  ain't  noways  to  blame  for,  right  to  his  face ! 
Why,  you  act  as  if  you'd  never  had  no  raising.  You  excuse 
him,  Mr.  Minnick;  he  doesn't  mean  no  harm;  he's  just 
young  and  thoughtless.  You  and  him  is  agoing  to  be  the 
best  kind  of  friends  or  I  miss  my  guess.' 

" '  You  miss  it  about  a  statutory  mile  if  he  ever  makes 
them  kind  of  cracks  again,'  says  Gus.  *  Such  language 
applied  to  me  'most  always  occasions  a  coolness  in  the  ap- 
plicationer  sort  of  approximating  the  temperature  of  a 
wedge.  If  I  hadn't  a  high  respect  for  you  I'd  be  miffed 
about  it  as  it  is.' 

"  '  You  apologize,  Archie,'  says  Tobermory.  '  You  apolo- 
gize, like  a  good  boy.' 

"  '  Sure,'  says  Arch,  with  a  sweet,  dutiful  smile.  '  I  done 
wrong,  pa.  Mr.  Minnick,  I  hope  you'll  overlook  it.  I 
wouldn't  sleep  more  than  twelve  hours  at  a  stretch  if  I 
thought  I'd  really  hurt  your  tender  feelings  and  got  you  to 
disliking  me.  I  apologize.  Sure !  I'd  apologize  to  a  pole- 
cat—  any  polecat  —  to  please  pa.' 

" '  Now  that's  handsome,'  says  Tobermory,  with  his 
crinkled-up,  benevolent  grin.  '  That's  more  like  my  boy 
Archie.  Now  about  them  wages :  I'm  willing  to  pay  what's 
fair  —  thirty-five  a  month;  and  if  we  do  well  and  don't 
have  no  losses  I'll  raise  it  at  the  end  of  the  season.' 

" '  Well,  that  ain't  much/  says  Gus ;  '  but  I've  took  a 
fancy  to  you,  and  then  you  done  me  a  favor  a  little  while 
ago,  so  if  your  old  woman  ain't  no  more  than  an  average 
bad  cook  I'll  help  you  out.' 

" '  I  feel  sure  that  ma'll  do  her  level  best  to  please  you, 
since  you're  so  kind  and  obliging,'  says  Arch.  'Any  time 


292  TOBERMORY 

the  grub  is  cold  you  just  tell  me  and  I'll  make  it  hot  for 
you.  I'll  make  it  so  damned  hot  for  you ' 

"  '  Archie !  "  says  the  old  man. 

" '  Yes,  I  see  that  me  and  Archie  is  agoing  to  be  the  best 
kind  of  friends,'  says  Gus,  and  his  eyes  was  slittier  than 
ever  when  he  said  it. 

"  Now  I  take  the  same  view  of  human  nature  as  Tober- 
mory,"  observed  the  old  bullwhacker.  "  I  claim  there's 
some  good  in  most  folks  if  we  could  only  find  it.  The 
trouble  is  that  we  don't  look  hard  enough.  Ain't  that 
right?  Tobermory  figured  that  Gus  had  just  mislaid  his 
redeeming  qualities,  but  they  was  in  him  somewheres,  hid 
away  under  a  mess  of  orneriness  where  nobody'd  ever 
guess  they  could  have  been  put.  Him  being  about  two- 
thirds  granger,  he  looked  on  Gus  as  a  barren  forty  and  pro- 
ceeded to  water  him  with  words  of  wisdom  and  fertilize  him 
with  forgiveness  and  warm  his  soil  with  sunny  smiles,  all  the 
time  a-scattering  seeds  of  kindness  and  going  down  on  all 
fours  to  see  if  some  of  them  wasn't  beginning  to  sprout. 
You  try  that  on  some  of  your  Injun  brothers  some  time, 
Ike,  and  see  if  it  don't  pay.  I  read  once  about  a  kind- 
hearted  old  settler  who  found  a  poor  starving  redskin  out 
in  the  snow  and  took  him  into  his  humble  cabin  and  fed  him 
up  a  lot  and  warmed  him  and  turned  him  loose  with  a  grub- 
stake, and  years  after " 

"  Years  ago,  you  was  speaking  of  Tobermory,"  hinted 
the  trader. 

"  Well,  Gus  didn't  seem  to  sprout  worth  a  cent,"  the  old 
bullwhacker  resumed.  "  About  that  time  I  lived  neighbors 
to  the  Tobermorys  —  not  more  than  twelve  miles  away  — 


TOBERMORY  293 

and  Arch  Tobermory  used  to  happen  along  once  in  a  while 
and  unload  his  mind  concerning  Gus  and  the  old  man.  I 
used  to  like  to  listen  to  Arch.  He  had  a  natural  gift  for 
language  that  he  had  to  keep  under  a  bushel,  as  you  might 
say,  while  he  was  round  home,  account  of  the  old  man. 
You  don't  often  run  across  sons  like  Archie.  He  was  dif- 
ferent to  the  most.  He  couldn't  help  feeling  that  Gus  was 
this,  that  and  the  other,  and  he  thought  that  his  old  daddy 
was  doomed  to  a  heap  of  disappointment  in  his  plans  for 
reform ;  but  he  walked  wide  of  Gus  for  the  most  part  and 
only  let  himself  out  when  he  was  alone,  according  to  what 
he  said,  except  once  or  twice,  and  when  Tobermory  wasn't 
round.  I  reckon  that  was  the  truth.  As  for  Tobermory 
himself  : 

" '  Bless  his  dear  old  whiskers ! '  says  Arch  to  me.  '  He's 
dead  certain  that  he's  going  to  make  that  libel  on  a  decent 
hyena  over  into  a  model  for  the  young.  He  thinks  he  can 
sweeten  the  mess  of  meanness  until  it's  fit  to  fill  scent 
sachets  and  put  in  bureau  drawers.  You  can't  tell  pa  that 
a  rattlesnake  with  a  sore  tummy  ain't  no  fit  playmate  for 
the  children;  he  won't  believe  you.  He  smokes  his  darned 
old  pipe  and  tells  me  to  be  patient  like  he  is.  If  you  ask  me, 
I'm  a  surprise  to  myself,  considering  how  the  color  of  Gus' 
hair  annoys  me ;  but  all  I  can  do  is  stay  round  and  see  that 
the  gentleman  doesn't  burn  the  house  up  some  fine  night. 
You  wait,  though !  Yes,  he  mighty  nigh  crisped  us  already. 
Give  me  half  a  chance  and  I'll  sure  reach  out  and  wipe  that 
smut  off  the  nose  of  Creation ! ' 

" '  I  believe  you  are  sort  of  prejudiced  against  him,'  I 
says.  '  There's  no  telling  but  your  daddy  may  soften  him 
yet,  hard  as  he  is.' 


294  TOBERMORY 

" '  I'd  like  to  soak  him  good  and  see  what  that  would  do,' 
says  Arch,  sort  of  studying.  '  The  only  other  way  I  know 
to  soften  that  asafetida  pill  is  to  pound  him  into  a  pulp.' 

"  I  said  I  should  have  thought  that  he  would  forget  him- 
self some  odd  time  and  eradicate  the  son-of-a-gun. 

"  '  Pa  always  watches  out  for  that/  says  Arch.  '  I  might 
slip  past  the  old  gent,'  he  says,  '  but  it  would  be  like  killing 
a  good  neighbor's  worthless  pet  dog  because  he  showed  his 
teeth  at  you.  Pa  would  never  get  over  it.' 

"  '  Didn't  you  never  tell  Gus  about  how  he  reminds  you  of 
all  them  members  of  the  animal  kingdom  ? '  I  asks  him. 

"  '  I've  mentioned  it  to  him  in  private ;  but  then  I'm  keep- 
ing the  guns  locked  up,  and  he  knows  that  if  I  once  laid 
hands  on  him  I'd  pull  him  apart  and  take  chances  on  being 
able  to  put  him  together  again,'  says  Arch.  '  He's  tried  to 
assassinate  me  by  accident  a  couple  of  times  and  I  have  to 
watch  him  close,  but  otherwise  our  relations  is  cordial.  I 
keep  thinking  that  We'll  run  to  the  end  of  the  picket  rope 
and  throw  himself,  but  it  begins  to  look  doubtful.  The 
other  day  he  got  mad  with  the  best  cow  we've  got  because 
she  switched  her  tail  in  his  face,  so  he  ups  with  the  milk 
stool  and  busts  her  head  wide  open.  Pa  did  tell  him  that 
wasn't  no  way  to  act,  but  he  told  him  more  in  sorrow  than 
in  anger,  and  Gus  overlooked  the  seeming  harshness  of  the 
remark  when  he  seen  how  pa  regretted  it.' 

" '  It  certainly  was  hasty  of  Gus,'  says  I.  '  I  think  I'd 
have  remonstrated  a  few  myself.  Did  he  kill  the  cow  ? ' 

" '  Her  hide  is  on  the  fence  and  her  meat  is  salted  down 
for  the  winter,'  says  Arch.  '  Then,  the  day  before  yester- 
day —  I  guess  you  seen  the  smoke  —  he  set  the  grass  afire 
down  the  valley  where  we  was  agoing  to  cut  hay  next  week. 


TOBERMORY  295 

There  ain't  no  kind  of  work  Gus  hates  worse  than  haying, 
and  there  ain't  none  that  he  likes  any  better.  All  is,  we'll 
have  to  buy  hay  this  fall  or  let  the  stock  rustle  through  the 
winter.  If  I  had  catched  him  there  would  have  been  some 
eradicating  done  right  there,  but  it  was  pa  happened  along 
while  he  was  touching  her  off  in  the  third  place.  Pa  spoiled 
his  coat  and  singed  off  a  considerable  whisker  trying  to  put 
the  fire  out,  but  the  wind  got  the  start  of  him.' 

" '  I  suppose  pa  made  allowances  for  him,'  says  I. 

" '  The  low-flung  liar  said  that  he  done  it  for  a  joke  on 
the  grasshoppers/  says  Arch.  '  He  claimed  that  he  never 
thought  about  the  hay  once.  Of  course  pa  had  to  own  up 
that  anybody  was  liable  to  forget  once  in  a  while,  but  he 
did  hope  that  Gus  would  try  to  be  more  thoughtful.' 

"  You'd  have  thought,  being  as  uncharitable  as  tinkling 
cymbals,  that  Gus  would  have  took  a  chance  and  a  few 
horses  and  lit  out,  after  a  general  massacre  of  the  Tober- 
mory  family ;  but  'Lonzo  Dolby  had  passed  word  about  him 
to  all  the  ranches  and  the  stock-association  men,  and  as  the 
Kansas  rustlers  was  somewhat  active  about  that  time  'Lonzo 
had  his  scouts  pretty  well  organized,  particularly  in  the  dark 
of  the  moon;  so,  altogether,  the  chance  was  a  slim  one. 
Arch  figured  it  out  that  way  at  first,  but  later  on  he  come 
round  to  my  opinion  that  Gus  was  softening.  For  a  while, 
I  don't  deny,  the  old  man's  proteege  acted  up  real  aggravat- 
ing; trying  to  teach  little  Sammy  Tobermory  to  swear  and 
chew  tobacco  premature,  as  you  might  say,  before  them 
accomplishments  was  proper  and  befitting.  That  looked 
like  pure  devilment ;  but  it  may  have  been  ignorance.  And 
taking  Mis'  Tobermory's  gold  watch  and  the  brooch  that 


296  TOBERMORY 

had  her  grandfather's  hair  into  it  and  trading  them  to  a 
whisky  peddler  and  then  getting  himself  intoxicated  and 
cutting  down  the  three-year-old  apple  orchard  that  was  just 
getting  ready  to  bear  —  that  was  another  thing. 

" '  And  all  pa  does  is  fill  up  a  bucket  with  rich  orient 
pearls  and  tote  them  out  to  his  trough,'  says  Arch.  '  Ma's 
talking  of  packing  up  and  going  back  East  to  her  folks  with 
little  Sammy/  he  says.  *  Pa  tells  her  that  if  she  feels  that 
way  and  won't  be  persuaded  he  can't  stop  her,  but  it's  his 
duty  to  be  patient  with  Gus  and  what  would  the  boy  do  if 
there  wasn't  nobody  to  give  him  a  helping  hand.  "  It's  a 
cinch  that  he'd  help  himself,"  says  ma.  You  see  Gus  un- 
dertook to  grease  the  wagon  the  other  day,  and  he  wiped 
the  thimbles  off  with  ma's  best  petticoat  that  was  hanging 
to  sun,  because  it  saved  him  walking  all  the  way  to  the  barn 
for  a  piece  of  old  gunny  sack.' 

"  But,  as  I  say,  things  begun  to  change.  '  The  constant 
drip  of  water  wears  away  the  hardest  stone,'  as  the  fellow 
says,  and,  along  come  fall,  Gus  begun  to  act  more  like  the 
common  run  of  humanity.  Aside  from  feeding  bread  and 
strychnine  to  some  of  the  chickens  —  which  may  have  been 
out  of  scientific  interest  —  and  a  few  things  like  that,  he 
didn't  do  nothing  out  of  reason,  and  he  begun  to  quit  in- 
sulting the  old  man  and  trying  to  kill  Arch.  Arch  owned 
up  that  he  had  turned  his  back  more  than  once  without  any- 
thing happening  —  as  long  as  a  minute  at  a  time.  He  told 
me  that  Gus  had  toted  in  a  pail  of  water  for  Mis'  Tober- 
mory  without  even  being  asked  and  shucked  half  a  wagon- 
load  of  squaw  corn  the  same  day.  Pa  sent  him  to  town  in- 
stead of  Arch  and  he  come  back  you  might  say  sober,  and 
with  all  the  mail. 


TOBERMORY  297 

" '  That's  right  good  news,'  I  says.  *  If  your  daddy 
doesn't  take  all  the  cussedness  out  of  him  he'll  go  to  the 
United  States  Senate  yet.' 

"  *  It  begins  to  look  thataway/  says  Arch,  sort  of  looking 
down  his  nose  and  fetching  a  deep  sigh. 

"  '  Ain't  you  glad  ? '  I  asks  him.  '  You  don't  act  like  it,' 
I  says. 

" '  Sure  I'm  glad ! '  says  he,  but  he  didn't  look  like  it. 

" '  Certainly,  I'm  tickled  'most  to  pieces/  he  busts  out 
again  after  a  little.  '  Why  wouldn't  I  be  pleased  to  see  a 
fellow  creature  a-turning  from  the  paths  of  gall  and  bitter- 
ness and  walking  in  the  straight  and  narrow  way  that  lead- 
eth  unto  a  good  team  and  wagon  and  a  cow  not  to  speak  of 
summer's  wages  all  winter.  That's  what  pa  is  figuring  on 
giving  him  to  start  him  on  a  ranch,  and  I  wouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  he-  raised  the  bid  before  spring.  Yes,  sir,  Gus 
allows  he'll  settle  down  on  a  claim  somewheres  near  us  so's 
he  can  get  over  often  to  see  pa  and  get  the  benefit  of  his 
advice.  You  bet  I'm  plumb  joyful  about  it.' 

"  Well,  there  it  was ;  and  I  ain't  got  the  slightest  doubt 
but  if  nothing  hadn't  happened  to  the  contrary  Gus  would 
have  settled  down  and  him  and  Arch  would  have  been  like 
brothers,  same  as  the  old  man  had  said  they  would  be.  I 
kept  on  thinking  thataway  for  about  a  week  after  Arch  went 
away,  quirting  his  horse  for  shying  at  the  gatepost  — *  which 
wasn't  like  my  boy  Archie,'  as  Old  Man  Tobermory  used  to 
say.  I  made  allowances,  because  I  knew  that  all  along  the 
youngster  had  figured  that  sometime  he'd  get  to  crawl  Mr. 
Minnick's  hump  for  reasons  that  his  daddy  couldn't  kick  at, 
and  here  was  Mr.  Minnick  blasting  that  sweet  hope  with  a 
short  fuse  and  a  double  shot  of  virtuousness. 


298  TOBERMOffY 

"  Well,  I  reckon  it  was  about  two  weeks  after  that  when 
Arch  come  back  again.  It  was  one  of  these  here  bright 
clear  mornings  '  when  all  Nature  seems  to  smile,'  as  the 
fellow  says.  Like  in  the  month  of  May  when  the  lambs  did 
skip  and  play  and  the  birds  was  a-singing  to  a  charm  — 
only  some  colder,  and  it  wasn't  the  birds  a-singing.  I'd 
just  stepped  to  the  door  to  throw  out  my  dishwater  when  I 
heard  a  song  that  wasn't  never  rendered  by  nothing  that 
wore  feathers.  It  come  clear  and  strong  on  the  morning 
breeze,  with  happy  yelps  on  the  high  notes  like  a  timber 
wolf  a-serenading  the  amber  moon: 

*' '  With  my  hippy,  hippy,  hippy, 

And  my  hippy,  hippy,  hi; 
With  my  hippy,  hippy,  hippy, 

Ya-hoo-oo  ee-ee  —  ha-ay ' 


*'And  here  comes  Arch  Tobermory,  loping  along  over 
the  trail,  beating  time  with  his  hat  on  his  horse's  neck.  He 
stopped  singing  when  he  seen  me  and  pulled  his  horse  in 
to  a  walk,  and  when  he  got  up  to  where  I  was  his  face  was 
as  long  as  a  fiddle. 

"  '  How,  colah ! '  I  says.  '  If  you  ain't  emptied  the  bottle 
I  don't  mind  if  I  do  join  you,  early  as  it  is,' 

" '  I  forget  once  in  a  while,'  says  Arch,  sort  of  sheepish, 
as  he  followed  me  in.  '  No,  I  ain't  got  none  and  ain't  had 
none/  he  says.  '  Ho  hum !  I  just  forget. 

"'With  my  hip ' 


"  '  Doggone  it !     Somebody  ought  to  kick  me  good.     It's 
a  world  of  sorrow,  Uncle  Billy.    We're  here  to-day  and 


TOBERMORY  299 

gone  to-morrow  —  like  the  flowers  that  bloom  in  the  spring 
and  is  cut  down,  as  pappy  says. 

"'With  my  hippy ' 


"  '  Oh,  shucks !  Have  you  got  the  makings,  Uncle  Billy  ? 
Poor  pappy!  Poor  pappy!' 

"  '  What's  the  matter  with  him  ? '  I  asks.  I  was  kind  of 
worried  at  the  curious  way  Arch  was  acting.  '  He  ain't 
sick,  is  he  ? '  I  asks. 

"  '  Why,  it  ain't  him ;  it's  Gus,'  says  Arch.  '  Poor  Gus ! 
If  you've  got  a  stock  of  this  smoking  I'll  take  a  sack  home 
to  pappy.  That's  what  I  come  for.  Yes,'  he  says,  lighting 
his  cigarette  and  dragging  on  it  kind  of  ravenous,  '  poor 
Gus  has  left  us,  poor  Gus  has.' 

"  I  asked  him  how  that  come. 

" '  Well,  the  old  gent  sent  him  to  town  again/  says  Arch. 
'  He  was  to  have  been  back  the  next  morning,  but  he  claimed 
he  met  a  friend.  If  that  was  so  I  don't  blame  him  for  stay- 
ing three  days  to  enjoy  the  novelty,  but  it  seems  to  me  hard 
to  believe.  But  he  come  back.  Pa  had  been  real  uneasy 
for  them  three  days,  but  he  wouldn't  let  me  ride  over  and 
borrow  from  you.  "  I've  got  faith  in  that  boy,"  he  kept 
saying.  "  He'll  be  back  any  minute  now.  You  can't  tell 
me  that  he  ain't  got  a  single  spark  of  gratitude  in  him,  after 
all  I've  done  for  him.  He  wouldn't  cause  me  anguish  and 
suffering  all  this  time  if  something  hadn't  happened  to  him. 
But  I  look  for  him  any  minute.  He's  good  at  heart,  Gus  is." 

"  '  Well,  finally  Gus  did  come.     I  don't  blame  pa  the  least 

in  the  world,  mind.     If  that  ax  hadn't  been  right  handy 

I  don't  know.     It  takes  a  heap  to  get  pa  started,  but  he's 


300  TOBERMORY 

sure  hard  to  stop  when  he  really  moves  —  and  sudden. 
Mighty  spry  for  a  man  of  his  age.  I  was  proud  of  him! 
Ho  hum!  Yes,  we  laid  Gus  where  the  waving  willows 
grow.' 

"  I  stared  at  him.  I  says :  '  You  don't  mean  to  say  that 
your  pa  —  Samuel  J.  Tobermory ' 

"  Arch  nodded.     '  Yes,'  says  he,  '  with  the  ax. 

"  '  With  my  hippy,  hippy ' 

" '  Oh,  sugar !  Yes,  pa  said  that  he'd  stood  a  good  deal 
from  Gus  and  had  been  forbearing  and  long-suffering  and 
lenient  all  that  could  be  expected,  but  when  the  thankless 
whelp  come  back  without  the  smoking  tobacco  he  thought 
it  was  just  a  lee-eetle  too  much.  Well,  I've  got  to  be  going 
or  pa'll  get  anxious  about  me.' 

"  He  jumps  up  and  jams  my  good  tobacco  down  in  his 
pocket  and  busts  through  the  door  in  a  hurry. 

" '  Poor  Gus ! '  he  says  as  he  throws  his  leg  over  the 
saddle.  Then  he  went  off  on  the  keen  run,  into  the  golden 
glory  of  the  morn,  a-splashing  the  dancing,  rippling  water 
of  the  ford  into  bright-hued  rainbows  of  peaceful  promise, 
as  it  were,  whilst  a-floating  back  behind  him  on  the  breeze, 
like  I  mentioned  it  had  floated  on  ahead  of  him,  come  once 
more  the  exulting  strain: 

"  '  With  my  hippy,  hippy,  hippy, 

And  my  hippy,  hippy,  hi; 
With  my  hippy,  hippy,  hippy, 

Ya-hoo-oo  ee-ee  —  ha-ay ' " 


VIII 
ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

THE  stock  tender  at  the  Box  Elder  stage  station,  having 
halfway  washed  the  few  dishes  that  the  simplicity  of 
the  noonday  meal  had  required,  hung  up  his  pan,  threw  the 
imperfectly  wrung-out  rag  at  a  nail  in  the  wall  and  made 
haste  to  rejoin  his  guests.  It  was  his  proud  boast  that  he 
never  let  his  dishes  go  and,  news  hungry  as  he  was  in  his 
sagebrush  solitude,  he  stuck  to  his  principle,  although  the 
old  bullwhacker  and  the  Bar  T  boy  had  been  smoking  in  the 
shade  of  the  barn  for  a  good  five  minutes  and  had  doubtless 
talked  of  many  interesting  things  during  that  time.  The 
Bar  T  boy  was  still  talking  when  the  stock  tender  came  up. 

"  Here,  let  me  in  on  this,  Bud,"  the  stock  tender  requested 
earnestly.  "  Who  was  it  ?  What  had  she  done  ?  " 

It  was  a  moving  story  of  man's  inhumanity  to  woman. 
The  Bar  T  boy's  chivalrous  nature  was  shocked  by  the  cir- 
cumstances, which  he  related  with  a  smolder  of  indignation 
in  his  eyes.  It  seemed  that  a  low-flung  granger  by  the  name 
of  Smithers  had  so  far  forgotten  all  decency  as  to  pinion  his 
poor  wife's  wrists  in  his  own  viselike  grip,  thrust  her  into 
a  chicken  house  and  padlock  the  door  on  her. 

"  And  all  she'd  done  was  take  after  him  with  a  butcher 
knife,  the  small-souled  son  of  a  gun,"  the  Bar  T  boy  ex- 

301 


302  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

plained  wrath  fully.  "  He  could  have  outrun  her  like  a 
mice,  with  them  long  legs  of  his,  or  he  could  have  clum 
one  of  them  cottonwoods  and  stayed  there  till  she  got  over 
her  mad.  But,  no !  Nothing  would  do  him  but  wrastle  her 
as  if  she'd  been  a  man.  Say,  Reddy,  you  tell  me  what  show 
a  woman  has  got  with  a  coyote  like  that.  I've  a  notion  to 
ride  over  and  beat  him  up  a  mess,  just  to  learn  him." 

"  You  keep  out  of  it,  Bud,"  the  stock  tender  advised. 
"She'll  learn  him!" 

The  old  bullwhacker  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  and 
nodded  assent.  "  I  ain't  defending  this  Smithers  party," 
said  he  with  twinkling  eyes.  "  But  all  the  same  it  looks  like 
this  lady  of  his  is  too  brash  and  enthusiastic.  She  hadn't 
ought  to  have  tipped  her  hand.  Her  play  was  to  sort  of 
gentle  him  like  Charlie  Blanche's  squaw  done  Charlie.  Ever 
hear  about  that  ?  " 

The  old  bullwhacker  chuckled  with  due  modesty  when  he 
was  encouraged  to  proceed,  and  forthwith  told  the  story  of 
Planche's  gentling. 

She  wasn't  no  blanket  squaw,  Charlie's  wife,  you  under- 
stand. She  was  one  of  old  Fortune  Galmiche's  girls  — 
Galmiche  at  the  Reservation  —  and  she'd  had  her  education 
at  St.  Mary's;  spoke  English  as  correct  as  you  and  me. 
Pretty  as  a  picture  too.  Her  Injun  name  was  lyoahina- 
pewin,  which  means  the  rosy-light-of-dawn,  so  you  can  fig- 
ure she  wasn't  so  homely.  Another  thing,  old  Fortune 
Galmiche  gave  out  that  fifty  head  of  ponies  went  with 
every  girl  of  his  who  married  a  white  man.  Right  here 
I  want  you  to  understand  that  I  wasn't  no  disappointed 
rival.  I've  et  my  share  of  dog  and  buffalo  berry  and  I've 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  SOS 

got  good  friends  in  the  Sioux  Nation,  but  as  pretty  as 
lysoah  was,  and  for  all  the  ponies  and  the  Government 
allotment  of  land  and  the  rations  that  went  with  it,  I  had 
my  opinion  of  squaw  men.  When  Charlie  told  me  that  he 
was  a-going  wickiya  I  told  him  what  my  views  was.  But 
he  only  laughed. 

"  It's  a  matter  of  taste,"  says  he.  "  I've  seen  white  girls 
that  wasn't  much  lighter  than  what  lysoah  is,  and,  what's 
more,  I'm  sick  of  punching  cows  all  summer  for  one  fine 
large  Ogalalla  headache  in  the  fall  and  a  slim  chance  to  feed 
stock  for  my  board  in  the  winter.  I'm  going  to  settle  down 
with  my  Injun  princess.  She's  good  enough  for  me." 

"  A  heap  plenty,"  says  I.  "  If  you  look  at  it  that  way 
I'm  bound  to  agree  with  you,"  I  says. 

"Another  thing,"  says  Charlie.  "You  take  an  Injun 
woman  and  she  ain't  got  no  fool  notions  about  being  too 
good  to  work." 

"That's  right,"  I  told  him.  "All  you've  got  to  do  is 
rustle  the  meat.  She'll  scrape  the  hides  and  tan  'em,  and 
sew  your  scalps  on  your  shirt,  and  bead  your  moccasins, 
and  set  up  the  tepee.  You've  sure  got  a  snap." 

He  looked  at  me  kind  of  ugly ;  but  I  got  a  bid  to  the  wed- 
ding and  I  went.  I  want  to  tell  you  that  Fortune  Galmiche 
did  that  wedding  up  brown,  and  when  I  seen  lysoah,  the 
little  brown  runt  that  I  remembered  running  round  For- 
tune's doorway  with  no  more  on  than  a  liberal-minded  man 
would  call  decent,  I  didn't  blame  Charlie  a  little  bit.  All 
fixed  up  in  white  she  was,  with  a  wreath  of  waxy  star-of- 
Bethlehem  that  the  Sisters  had  made  for  her  in  her  hair, 
veil  and  little  white-kid,  high-heeled  shoes,  and  all  the  trim- 
mings. I  tell  you,  sir,  gentlemen,  she  was  a  princess,  sure 


304  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

enough.  Charlie  didn't  have  a  bad  appearance  himself,  and 
the  way  she  looked  at  him,  thinks  I,  "  That's  the  way  I  want 
my  woman  to  look  at  me,  if  I  ever  get  one." 

Well,  they  went  over  on  Ash  Creek,  where  there  was  good 
range  for  the  ponies,  and  old  Fortune  had  built  them  an  ele- 
gant little  frame  house.  I  happened  along  by  about  two  or 
three  months  after  the  wedding  and  everything  seemed  to 
be  running  slick  as  grease.  I'd  had  my  doubts,  because  I'd 
seen  young  squaws  from  Agency  schools  start  out  in  cor- 
sets and  white  muslin  and,  before  a  year  was  out,  be  padding 
round  in  moccasins  and  wearing  their  hair  with  a  streak  of 
red  paint  down  the  part.  I  didn't  know  but  what  I'd  find 
a  tepee  or  two  set  up  in  the  yard  and  a  tribe  of  lysoah's 
relations  on  her  mother's  side  squatting  round,  pegging  out 
hides  and  jerking  deer  meat ;  but  the  first  thing  that  I  noticed 
was  a  picket  fence  round  the  house  and  behind  it  a  row  of 
Russian  sunflowers  and  a  mess  of  other  posies.  Charlie 
had  got  the  house  painted  and  there  was  white  curtains  in 
the  windows.  The  flossiest  kind  of  a  layout ;  and,  as  I  tied 
my  horse  to  the  corner  post,  I  heard  lysoah  singing  Jerusa- 
lem the  Golden  as  happy  as  you  please  in  the  kitchen.  .  I 
stood  right  there  in  my  tracks  and  listened.  No  waukapo- 
mini  about  that.  Prettiest  voice  you  ever  heard  too  — 
smooth  as  velvet  and  as  clear  as  a  meadow  lark's  whistle. 
I'd  always  like  to  hear  lysoah  talk,  but  I'd  never  heard  her 
sing. 

"  Jerusalem  crickets !  "  says  I  to  myself.  "  That  ain't  no 
squaw." 

Why,  it  might  have  been  back  in  Ohio,  where  I  come 
from.  But  just  as  I  was  thinking  them  thoughts,  she 
struck  up : 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  305 

"  Mita,  Wakantanka, 
Nikiyedan " 

"  I  take  it  all  back,"  says  I  to  myself.  "  You  can't  get 
the  Injun  out  of  'em." 

It  was  Nearer,  My  God ;  but  it  was  Injun.  So  I  hollered 
and  opened  the  gate  —  and  then,  blamed  if  I  didn't  have  to 
change  my  idees  again.  She  come  out,  and  —  well,  I  pulled 
my  hat  off  as  if  it  had  been  Mrs.  Doc  Stewart  or  any  other 
lady.  Nothing  fine  about  her  —  just  a  blue-calico  wrapper 
and  her  hair  in  a  plait  down  her  back,  but  the  wrapper  was 
tied  in  at  the  waist  with  a  red  ribbon  and  it  suited  her  right 
down  to  her  trim  little  ankles.  Altogether,  what  with  the 
way  she  smiled  and  stuck  out  her  small  brown  paw  at  me, 
I  was  sure  took  aback. 

"  Come  right  in,  Mr.  Stegg,"  says  she.  "  Very  glad  to 
see  you.  Charlie  went  over  to  the  Rosebud  this  morning  to 
look  at  some  cows  he's  thinking  of  buying,  but  I  expect  him 
any  minute  now." 

She  takes  me  into  a  little  setting  room  with  Brussels  car- 
pet on  the  floor,  and  a  drop  lamp  with  glass  jiggers  onto  it, 
and  a  bookcase  plumb  full  of  books,  and  a  parlor  organ  in 
one  corner;  and  she  sets  me  down  in  a  plush-arm  rocker. 
I'm  a  liar  if  I  didn't  begin  to  sweat  and  wonder  what  would 
I  do  with  my  hands.  But  that  wore  off,  and  inside  of  ten 
minutes  we  was  gassing  away  and  laughing  like  old  friends. 
After  a  while  I  got  up  and  took  a  squint  at  the  bookcase. 

"  Charlie's  getting  to  be  sort  of  choice  in  his  reading,"  I 
says,  picking  up  one  of  the  books.  It  was  in  some  foreign 
language. 

"  Oh,  them's  my  books,"  she  says,    "  Charlie  ain't  much 


306  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

on  reading.  That's  Molyare.  I'm  French,  you  know,  on 
my  father's  side." 

Just  then  there  was  a  racket  outside  amongst  the  chickens, 
and  she  jumped  up. 

"  There's  that  miserable  hawk  again,"  she  says.  "  I'll 
fix  him." 

She  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  a  thirty-eight  and  ran 
out  with  it.  I  followed  her  and,  sure  enough,  there  was  a 
chicken  hawk  circling  over  the  yard. 

"  Watch,"  says  she,  and  "  crack  "  went  the  gun  and  down 
tumbled  Mister  Hawk  without  any  head  on  him.  Just  off- 
hand shooting.  Didn't  take  no  aim  or  nothing. 

"H-m!"  thinks  I.  "Part  French,  are  you?  I'd  be 
right  sorry  for  anyone  that  comes  along  here  that  was  part 
hawk." 

Hows'ever,  we  went  back  to  the  setting  room  and,  after 
a  while,  Charlie  came  in,  and  it  was  pretty  to  see  her  run  to* 
him.  Charlie  took  it  tolerable  good-natured  too.  Looking 
well,  Charlie  was,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  wicked  eye 
of  his  and  one  or  two  things  I  knew  about  him,  I'd  have 
said  they  was  well  matched.  He  would  have  lysoah  set 
down  and  play  me  a  piece  on  the  organ,  and  while  she  was 
doing  it  I  could  see  him  watching  her  with  a  grin  on  his 
face.  I  liked  that  in  him,  too,  although  I  can't  say  lysoah 
was  much  on  that  there  instrument.  Kind  of  stuttered  on 
it.  Still,  counting  out  the  times  she  slipped  up,  you  could 
make  out  a  tune. 

After  that,  lysoah  went  into  the  kitchen  and  fixed  us  up 
a  meal.  I  won't  say  I  never  et  better  cooking,  because  that 
would  be  a  lie;  but  it  wasn't  so  a  hungry  man  couldn't  get 
away  with  it,  and  it  was  clean.  And  I  took  notice  that 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  SO1? 

Charlie  never  made  no  kick.  Another  thing  I  noticed  was 
the  soft,  cooing  voice  that  woman  had  when  she  spoke  to 
him,  and  she  couldn't  go  nowheres  near  him  without  touch- 
ing him  —  a  little  stroke  on  his  shirt  sleeve,  or  a  pat  on  his 
shoulder  or  his  hand.  It  certainly  was  pretty. 

I  had  to  pull  my  freight  after  dinner  and  Charlie  came 
down  to  the  trail  with  me. 

"  Well,  how  does  my  white  brother  like  my  wigwam  ?  " 
says  he  as  I  swang  up  onto  my  horse.  "  I  ain't  took  to  the 
breechclout  yet,  do  you  reckon  ?  " 

"  Heap  good,"  says  I.  "  You're  sure  lucky,  if  you  don't 
get  the  idee  that  you  deserve  it.  If  you  treat  Mrs.  Planche 
right,  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  you  didn't  amount  to  something 
in  course  of  time." 

I  wasn't  trying  to  give  him  guff  either.  I  honestly 
thought  that  the  boy  might  amount  to  something.  I'd  al- 
ways kind  of  liked  him,  mean  as  he  was.  Ever  know  a 
mean  man  you  kind  of  liked?  He  was  a  good  cowhand, 
although  he  had  never  held  down  a  job  for  any  length  of 
time,  and  he  was  smart  enough,  when  he  wasn't  too  smart 
for  his  own  good.  There  couldn't  be  no  doubt  but  what  he 
thought  a  heap  of  that  little  wife  of  his,  and  I  figured  that 
one  thing  might  straighten  him  up.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
was  early  in  the  game  yet,  and,  after  all,  lysoah  was  an 
Injun.  One  time  I'd  think  of  her  in  her  setting  room, 
pretty  and  high-toned  and  refined  as  anybody,  and  then 
I'd  think  of  that  hawk  flopping  down  out  of  the  blue  sky, 
and  remember  the  cur'ous  sort  of  smile  that  she  gave  when 
it  hit  the  ground.  I'd  think  of  her  father,  the  little  old 
Frenchman,  Fortune  Galmiche,  polite  as  a  basket  of  chips, 
and  all  the  time  chattering  and  laughing  and  waving  his 


508  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

hands,  as  free-handed  as  he  was  light-hearted,  as  gritty  as 
God  ever  makes  a  man  and  as  straight  as  a  string. 

And  then  I'd  think  of  Mrs.  Galmiche  —  full-blood  Teton 
squaw,  with  a  face  that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  chipped  out 
of  red  porphyry,  high  cheek  bones  and  hook  nose;  never 
talking;  sitting  by  the  fireplace  in  Fortune's  house;  smoking 
her  killikinick  in  her  long  Injun  pipe,  or  else  astraddle  of 
her  pony  riding  to  the  Agency  store.  I'd  seen  her  once  at 
a  beef  issue  —  when  they  turned  the  critters  loose  for  the 
bucks  to  shoot  down  —  sometimes  with  arrows  —  and  the 
squaws  cut  'em  up. 

Then  I'd  think  of  Charlie  again,  clean  and  clear  eyed, 
grinning  at  me  while  lysoah  played  the  organ  —  and  I'd 
think  of  him  kicking  his  horse  in  the  belly  and  jerking  its 
bit  till  the  blood  run  because  it  didn't  stand  round  to  suit 
him,  and  I'd  think  of  some  other  things  that  I  knew*  and 
had  heard  about  him. 

Finally  I  quit  thinking  about  them.  That  winter  I  didn't 
have  time,  being  too  busy  helping  to  keep  a  couple  of 
thousand  head  of  cattle  from  drifting  down  into  the  Pan- 
handle, but  at  the  calf  round-up  on  Hat  Creek  I  run  across 
Petie  Jones  from  White  River,  and  I  asked  him  pointedly 
about 'Charlie  and  Mrs.  Charlie. 

"  He's  one  son  of  a  gun,  that  Charlie  Planche,"  says 
Petie. 

"  In  a  general  way,  most  of  us  are,"  says  I.  "  What 
seems  to  be  the  particular  trouble  with  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there's  talk,"  says  he. 

"  Once  more,  for  the  cigars,"  says  I. 

".Well,"  says  Petie,  "  I  don't  know  as  there's  anything 
for  the  grand  jury  —  as  yet ;  but  his  little  bunch  of  cows  has 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  309 

sure  made  a  record  increase  this  spring.  One  or  two  of  'em 
dropped  yearlings,  seems  like,  and  there's  a  big  percentage 
of  twins  and  triplets.  There's  talk  to  that  effect." 

"  There  always  is,"  I  says,  which  was  true. 

Anybody  who  starts  a  little  bunch  alongside  of  the  big 
herd  is  liable  to  be  unjustly  suspicioned.  There's  even 
been  talk  about  me.  Hows'ever,  I  dropped  that  and  asked 
if  there  was  anything  else. 

"  Well,"  says  Petie,  "  you  was  asking  about  his  woman. 
I  stopped  overnight  at  his  place  a  couple  of  weeks  ago  and 
I  wasn't  stuck  on  the  way  he  talked  to  her.  Of  course  she's 
got  Injun  blood  in  her,  but  that  ain't  no  excuse.  I  don't 
go  round  to  a  man's  house  and  eat  his  grub  and  then  come 
away  and  back-cap  him,  but  you  asked  me  and,  besides, 
everybody  knows  that  Charlie  Planche  is  one  son  of  a  gun. 
Well,  there  wasn't  nothing,  only  Charlie  had  his  ears  back 
and  his  eyes  rolling  and  she  was  a-walking  wide  of  him. 
That's  the  way  I  figured  it.  If  she'd  give  him  any  reason 
it  might  be  different,  but  I  never  see  a  gentler-spoken  woman 
or  one  that  tried  harder  to  please  a  man.  Never  an  ugly 
word  out  of  her.  '  Yes,  Charlie  dear,'  and  '  No,  Charlie 
dear,'  and  '  I'm  very  sorry,  Charlie  dear.'  That  was  the 
way  of  it  —  and  him  making  his  cracks  about  squaws,  right 
afore  her  and  me!  What  was  you  saying  about  that  Box 
Ecow?" 

That  was  all  I  could  get  out  of  him;  but  it  was  enough. 
I  could  put  two  and  two  together  and  make  a  big  black  four 
out  of  it  easy  enough.  Inside  of  another  year  Charlie 
would  sell  out  and  hit  the  breeze  for  parts  as  unknown  as 
possible,  providing  old  Fortune  didn't  get  a  line  on  him 
with  his  buffalo  gun ;  and  poor  little  lysoah  —  she'd  take  it 


310  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

hard.  I  didn't  have  no  idee  that  she'd  make  a  holler.  She 
wasn't  that  kind;  but  it  was  a  cinch  that  there  would  be 
something  to  holler  about.  A  mean  man  don't  improve 
with  time  much  oftener  than  a  rotten  egg,  and  if  he  abuses 
his  wife  before  strangers  it  ain't  likely  he'll  be  a  consider- 
ate and  loving  husband  when  there's  thirty-odd  miles  be- 
tween them  and  any  third  person  whatsoever.  It  didn't 
take  much  knowledge  of  human  nature  to  figure  that  out. 
Love's  young  dream  was  sure  over  for  little  Rosy-Light-of- 
Dawn. 

I  got  some  more  supplementary  evidence,  as  Judge  Bene- 
dict calls  it,  along  in  the  fall.  I'd  drifted  down  south 
myself  and  it  was  in  Abilene  that  I  met  up  with  Lute  Boggs. 
Lute  worked  for  the  Bar  T  one  time,  Bud.  Maybe  you've 
heard  of  him.  Well,  Lute  had  been  up  in  the  White  River 
country,  and  he'd  stopped  off  at  Charlie's  place  and  found 
Charlie  had  been  throwed  by  his  horse  and  was  in  bed  with 
a  broken  arm  and  collar  bone. 

"  Pity  it  wasn't  his  blamed  neck,"  says  Boggs.  "  Still, 
he  was  busted  up  a  considerable  and  that  little  woman  was 
nursing  him  like  a  mother.  I'd  have  been  willing  to  have 
gone  him  a  bust  better  to  have  had  the  nursing  she  gave 
him.  She  couldn't  do  enough  for  him,  and,  say,  when  she 
talked  to  him  it  sounded  like  one  of  them  mourning  doves 
back  in  the  woods,  and  when  he  talked  to  her  —  well,  I 
put  in.  I  couldn't  help  it.  Making  allowances  for  his 
bones  bothering  him,  it  wasn't  no  way  to  speak  to  no  woman, 
squaw  or  no  squaw.  And  what  do  you  reckon  she  said? 
'  I  think  it  will  be  better  for  you  not  to  interfere,  Mr.  Boggs,' 
says  she,  looking  at  me  calm  and  steady.  '  Mr.  Planche  and 
I  understand  each  other  and  he  didn't  mean  that.' 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  311 

" '  Didn't  I  ? '  says  Charlie,  sneering.  He  was  going  to 
say  some  more,  but  I  judged  it  wasn't  none  of  my  busi- 
ness, so  I  lit  out.  But  he's  a  daisy,  Charlie  is !  Lucky  for 
him  she  is  a  squaw ;  a  white  woman  would  get  right  up  on 
her  ear  and  make  trouble." 

I  allowed  he  was  right,  but  it  did  seem  a  shame.  I  was 
young  enough  then  so's  I  worried  a  heap  more  over  other 
people's  troubles  than  what  I  do  now,  and  I  reckon  if  I  had 
been  within  a  day's  ride  of  friend  Charlie,  I'd  have  prodded 
in  and  shattered  his  anatomy  some  more.  Hows'ever,  I 
was  in  Texas  and  in  Texas  I  stayed  for  close  on  two  years, 
working  for  Jim  Hammersley  and  saving  my  money.  Then 
I  got  kind  of  homesick  for  the  old  ranges  and  I  bought  me 
a  bunch  of  horses  and  drove  them  up  north.  Along  in 
July  I'd  sold  the  last  ten  head  to  the  Anglo-American,  and 
there  at  the  T  A  N  ranch  I  met  up  with  a  nice  old  geezer 
from  Boston  who  was  staying  with  Harry  Oelrichs,  and  he 
wanted  a  number-one  foreman  for  an  outfit  his  company 
had  bought  out  south  of  the  Rosebud.  That  was  how  it 
come  that  one  morning,  about  three  weeks  later,  I  was  rid- 
ing along  Ash  Creek  within  six  miles  of  Planche's  place. 
I'm  a  man  that  don't  like  to  have  my  feelings  harrowed  un- 
necessary as  a  general  thing,  and  I  hadn't  even  made  in- 
quiry after  Charlie  and  lysoah,  but  right  there  I  took  the 
notion  strong  that  I'd  ride  that  six  mile. 

I  wasn't  none  too  hopeful  that  I'd  find  so  much  as  the 
house.  A  lone  chimney  maybe,  left  standing  on  the  little 
flat,  and  jack  rabbits  and  rattlesnakes  sporting  about  in  the 
weeds  and  trash  where  there  was  once  a  happy  home.  I'd 
look  on  the  scene  of  desolation  a  spell,  heave  a  few  pensive 
sighs  and  mosey  along.  Or  maybe  I'd  find  another  family 


312  ROSY-LIGHT-'OF-DAWN 

there,  no  telling.  There  was  a  chance  of  Charlie  being 
there  yet,  and  I  could  just  see  him,  growed  fat  and  flabby, 
with  bloodshot  eyes  and  a  two  weeks'  crop  of  whiskers  on 
his  dirty  face,  and  tobacco  and  grease  down  the  front  of 
his  shirt,  like  any  other  squaw  man.  One  or  two  of  the 
windows  in  the  house  would  be  broke  and  rags  stuffed  in 
from  last  winter;  there  would  be  a  slop  of  dishwater  in  the 
dooryard,  and  bones  that  the  chickens  had  picked,  and  flies 
in  swarms.  Somehow  I  couldn't  settle  in  my  mind  what 
lysoah  would  look  like,  but  in  a  general  way  she'd  fit  in. 

I  struck  the  trail  that  led  to  the  ford,  and  there  my  first 
theory  was  knocked  endways.  It  was  a  well-traveled  trail 
and  there  was  fresh  wagon  tracks  all  along  it.  I  splashed 
through  the  ford,  loped  along  through  the  cottonwood  bot- 
tom and  up  the  rise,  and  it  didn't  take  more  than  one  look 
to  tell  me  that  I'd  hit  it  the  second  guess.  The  house  was 
there,  but  strangers  was  living  in  it  —  strangers  who  had 
plowed  and  fenced  in  as  much  as  thirty  acres,  strangers  who 
had  in  a  fine  ripening  stand  of  wheat  and  a  likely  patch 
of  sod  corn,  to  say  nothing  of  the  beginnings  of  an  apple 
orchard  and  a  green  garden.  There  was  a  corral,  too,  and 
three  good-sized  stacks  of  hay ;  there  was  a  barn,  and  a  little 
windmill  was  spinning  away  with  a  chug-chug  of  pumping 
water.  I  couldn't  begin  to  tell  you  all  there  was,  but  what 
there  wasn't  was  signs  or  tokens  of  Charlie  Planche  being 
anywhere  round.  The  only  exception  was  Charlie  himself, 
and  I  didn't  believe  in  him. 

Him  and  a  tow-headed  man  who  looked  like  a  Swede  was 
tinkering  with  a  mower,  and  as  I  rode  up  Charlie  dropped 
his  monkey  wrench  and  came  up  to  help  me  open  the  gate. 
He  moved  lively.  He  wasn't  fat  and  he  wasn't  flabby, 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  313 

and  the  only  dirt  on  him  was  a  smear  of  machine  grease 
across  his  forehead,  where  he'd  wiped  the  sweat  away  with 
his  bare  arm.  He'd  shaved  that  morning;  there  was  a 
little  cut  on  his  chin  where  the  razor  had  slipped.  He  was 
as  brown  as  a  late  July  Dakota  sun  could  burn  him  —  face, 
neck  and  bare  arms.  He  had  on  a  clean  blue  shirt  and  clean 
overalls  stuck  into  these  lace-up-the-front  boots.  He  was 
as  decent  looking  a  man  as  you'd  want  to  look  at  —  man, 
you  understand. 

"  Dog  my  cats,  if  it  ain't  old  Sam  Stegg,"  says  he,  and 
you'd  have  thought  he  was  glad  to  see  me  by  the  way  he 
acted.  He  grabbed  old  Baldy's  bridle  away  from  me  and 
called  to  the  Swede  to  take  him  and  give  him  a  feed  of 
grain.  "  Come  on  up  to  the  house,"  says  he.  "  lysoah  will 
be  tickled  to  death." 

As  we  came  to  the  yard  gate  there's  a  yell  and  something 
about  two  foot  high  jumps  out  and  fastens  onto  Charlie's 
leg.  Charlie  picks  him  up  and  tucks  him  under  his  arm 
like  he  was  fifty  cents'  worth  of  sugar  in  a  sack,  instead  of 
twenty  pounds  of  squealing,  squirming  male  papoose. 

"Ambushed  me,  did  you,  you  skeezicks?"  says  Charlie. 
Then  he  hollers,  "  lysoah !  "  and  lysoah  come  out. 

I'd  pinched  myself  twice  on  the  way  from  the  barn  to 
the  house.  I  pinched  myself  again  before  I  shook  hands 
with  her.  She  looked  real  and  she  felt  real  though.  Too 
solid  for  a  dream.  Not  fat,  but  what  you'd  call  nicely  filled 
out.  A  woman,  and  a  happy  woman.  Oh,  you  can  tell  'em 
when  you  see  the  genuine  article,  every  time,  but  they're 
so  scarce  you  get  fooled  by  fair  imitations  once  in  a  while. 
It  wasn't  no  "  Hurrah,  girls !  "  with  her ;  it  was  something 
quiet  and  peaceful,  but  it  was  there,  right  in  her  eyes,  even 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

when   she    wasn't    smiling.     You    could    sort   of    sense    it. 

But,  at  that,  I  missed  something.  I  wouldn't  ask  for  a 
kinder  welcome  than  she  gave  me,  but  there  was  something 
missing.  The  next  minute  she  spoke  to  Charlie,  and  right 
away  it  come  to  me  what  it  was  —  the  coo  had  gone  out 
of  her  voice.  Soft  and  pleasant  enough  it  was,  although 
she  was  scolding  him  for  carrying  the  young  one  head 
downward,  but  it  wasn't  exactly  the  velvet  that  Charlie 
used  to  get  —  and  I  noticed  Charlie  up-ended  the  little 
rooster  pronto.  Then  she  scolded  her  papoose  and  —  it 
was  the  old  dove  note  again,  and  then  some. 

She  carried  him  out  and  was  back  again,  smiling  and 
bright,  with  a  pitcher  of  lemonade  with  ice  in  it.  Ice  on 
Ash  Creek! 

"  Sure  enough,"  says  Charlie.  "  But  why  not  ?  Forty- 
five  below  is  cold  enough  to  freeze  ice,  ain't  it?  That's 
what  we  had  last  winter.  I  dammed  up  the  creek,  and  I 
could  have  filled  the  ice  house  twice  over." 

He  rattled  on,  bragging  about  his  ice  house,  his  garden, 
his  crops,  his  stock  and  his  kid,  what  him  and  Ole  had  done 
last  year  and  what  they  intended  to  do;  and  whenever  he 
stopped  for  breath  lysoah  put  in.  Ole  was  married,  and 
his  wife  helped  with  the  housework  and  the  kid,  and  they 
paid  'em  forty  a  month  and  they  was  worth  twice  that  — 
and  questions  about  Texas  and  news  of  the  reservation; 
and  I  sat  there,  pinching  myself  once  in  a  while  and  all  the 
while  taking  her  in.  Fresh-laundered,  flowered-calico 
dress,  starchy  skirts,  and  shoes  as  neat  as  ever;  hair  done 
up  —  not  like  the  braids  tied  with  red-ribbon  bows  that  I 
remembered,  but  more  stylish,  and  mighty  becoming  to  her. 
And  happy! 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  315 

By  and  by  we  had  dinner,  and  they  was  both  set  I  should 
stay  overnight.  I  stayed.  I  wanted  to  find  out  something 
that  I  knew  lysoah  wouldn't  tell  me,  not  if  I  stayed  a  hun- 
dred years  and  could  have  asked  her;  but  with  gabby 
Charlie  it  was  different.  He  was  one  of  those  boys  that  are 
mighty  interested  in  themselves  and  like  to  talk  about  what 
interests  'em. 

After  supper,  when  the  chores  was  done,  I  got  my  chance, 
lysoah  is  putting  little  Charles  Fortune  Planche  to  sleep  in 
the  next  room  and  Charlie  and  me  is  sitting  smoking. 
Charlie  winks  one  of  his  wicked  eyes  at  me  and  allows  it 
isn't  often  he  gets  the  chance. 

"  She  doesn't  like  it,"  he  says,  "  on  account  of  it  not 
being  good  for  me.  You  wouldn't  think  that,  her 
being " 

"Injun?"  says  I. 

He  frowns  and  shakes  his  head  at  me,  jerking  his  thumb 
at  the  bedroom. 

"  Not  but  what  she's  proud  of  her  Injun  blood,"  he  says, 
a  little  above  a  whisper ;  "  but  you  know  how  it  is.  An 
Irishman  don't  like  you  to  call  him  Irish,  and  Ole  came 
near  fighting  one  day  when  I  called  him  a  damn  Swede. 
I  had  to  apologize." 

"  I'd  have  s'posed  you'd  smoke  anyway,"  says  I.  "  What 
would  happen  if  you  did?" 

He  looked  round  at  the  door  again. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  says,  "  but  I've  got  a  hunch  that 
something  would  happen.  Oh,  I'd  smoke  if  I  wanted  to, 
but  I  tell  you,  Sam,  lysoah  is  a  mighty  smart  little  woman. 
I've  took  her  advice  more'n  once  and  done  well  by  it,  and 
she  thinks  the  sun  rises  and  sets  in  me.  What  I  say  is, 


316  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

when  you  get  a  woman  like  that,  treat  her  well.  Humor 
her." 

"That's  a  pious  idee,"  says  I.  "Still,"  I  says,  "you 
didn't  talk  that  way  afore  you  married  her.  You  was 
a-going  to  make  her  stand  round  while  you  just  lay  round. 
When  I  come  up  this  morning  I  expected  to  see  her  split- 
ting wood  for  dinner." 

Charlie  grins  sort  of  foolish.  "  She'd  split  it,  if  I  told 
her  to,"  says  he,  "  but  she  just  naturally  can't  handle  an 
ax.  One  time  she  tried  it  and  it  flew  out  of  her  hand,  and, 
if  I  hadn't  dodged,  it  would  have  brained  me.  She  was  all 
broke  up  about  it,  to  think  what  a  narrow  escape  I  had. 
Felt  awful  bad." 

"  H-m,"  says  I.  "  I  wonder  if  she  didn't.  When  was 
that?" 

"  Along  when  we  was  first  married,"  says  he.  "  I 
chopped  the  wood  myself  after  that." 

"  Well,  you're  husky  enough  to  do  it,"  says  I.  "  You 
look  like  a  man  that's  well  fed.  lysoah  has  got  to  be  a 
tolerable  good  cook." 

"  She's  learned,"  says  he.  "  I  used  to  make  a  roar  when 
she  didn't  cook  to  please  me,  and  she  soon  learned.  But 
at  first  —  one  time  she  fixed  up  a  stew  that  blamed  near 
poisoned  me.  Colic !  Say,  I  like  to  died.  She  was  mighty 
nigh  crazy  about  it,  scared  plumb  out  of  her  senses.  She 
rustled  a  flat  rock  and  het  it  up  to  put  on  my  belly  and  in 
her  fluster  she  got  it  about  red  hot,  and  —  mamma !  It  was 
a  couple  of  weeks  afore  I  could  move.  I  sure  suffered, 
lysoah  said  it  hurt  her  more'n  it  did  me,  and  she  certainly 
took  on  like  it  did," 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  317 

"  I  bet  she's  a  good  nurse,"  says  I,  "  but  anybody's  liable 
to  get  flustered  and  lose  their  head." 

"  She  don't  lose  hers,  as  a  general  thing,"  says  Charlie. 
"  One  time  I  got  bit  by  a  rattlesnake  right  in  this  house. 
It  beats  the  Dutch  how  it  got  in,  and  it  sure  bit  me.  If 
it  hadn't  been  for  lysoah  I'd  have  been  a  goner  because  I 
was  plumb  out  of  whisky  —  drunk  the  last  drop  the  night 
before.  See  that  little  cubby-hole  under  the  shelves?  I 
reached  in  for  my  hat  that  lysoah  had  stuck  in  there  and 
the  son  of  a  gun  got  me  —  on  the  arm.  I'd  skassly  let  out  a 
holler  afore  lysoah  had  that  snake's  head  mashed;  then, 
in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  she'd  got  my  arm  tied 
and  was  cutting  into  the  bite  with  my  razor  to  let  the  blood 
out,  after  which  she  poured  ammonia  on  it.  I  didn't  have 
to  tell  her  what  to  do.  She  knew ;  made  every  move  count. 
Some  women  would  have  taken  half  a  day  to  find  the  latigo 
string  and  the  razor  and  the  ammonia,  but  not  lysoah. 
Kept  her  head  that  time,  all  right.  Well,  sir,  if  you  never 
had  ammonia  poured  into  an  open  wound,  you  ain't  got  no 
idee  what  it's  like.  And  she  sure  bled  me  good  and  plenty. 
But  it  done  the  work." 

"  H-m,"  says  I.  "  You  sure  had  a  streak  of  bad  luck.  I 
seen  Boggs  down  in  Texas  and  he  was  telling  me  about  you 
getting  throwed  and  all  stove  up.  Must  have  been  a  good 
horse,  Charlie." 

"  Well,  sir,"  says  Charlie,  "  that  was  a  mighty  funny 
thing.  It  wasn't  no  good  horse ;  it  was  an  old  plug  that  I 
most  generally  couldn't  rowel  out  of  a  walk,  but  I'd  no 
sooner  got  on  him  than  he  let  into  bucking  like  a  crazy  out- 
law. Even  so,  I'd  have  stayed  with  him,  but  both  cinches 


318  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

busted,  and  saddle  and  me  went  a-kiting.     I  thought  I  wan't 
never  going  to  light.     They  was  new  hair  cinches,  too,  so 
you  can  figure  it  was  some  bucking." 
"  H-m-m,"  I  says  again. 

And  I  studied  on  them  happenings  a  spell  and  it  come  to 
me  that  there  was  a  weed  the  Injuns  call  sica  that  if  you 
take  the  pith  and  boil  it  —  or  stew  it  in  a  stew  —  and  swal- 
low it,  you  get  an  elegant  case  of  fence-rail  colic.  It  come 
to  me  that  I'd  seen  Injuns  take  and  cut  the  poison  sacs  out 
of  rattlers  just  for  deviltry.  They  say  they  fix  'em  all  that 
way  for  the  snake  dances,  but  some  says  not.  Hows'ever, 
I  knew  myself  that  the  button  of  a  prickly  pear  under  a 
saddle  blanket  will  make  anything  buck,  and  that  even  new 
hair  cinches  could  be  wore  through  by  rubbing  them  against 
a  rock  or  taking  a  blacksmith's  rasp  to  'em. 

"  I  know  what  you're  a-thinking  of,"  says  Charlie.  "  I 
had  my  suspicions  myself,  and  I  told  her  so  one  time. 
We'd  had  a  few  words  —  like  all  married  folks  will  —  and 
soon  after  that,  while  she  was  cleaning  my  gun  it  went  off 
and  took  the  tip  of  my  ear.  Right  here,  see  ?  " 

He  showed  me  his  left  ear  and,  sure  enough,  the  tip  was 
sort  of  jagged. 

"  I  told  her  what  I  suspicioned  and  told  her  that  I'd  like 
for  her  to  let  up  on  me,  but  I  felt  ashamed  of  myself  when 
I  seen  how  it  hurt  her.  Shucks!  she  didn't  know  nothing 
about  guns ;  couldn't  tell  the  stock  from  the  barr'l.  '  How 
could  you  think  such  a  thing  of  your  poor  little  Injun  wife 
that  loves  you  so  ? '  she  says.  And  there  ain't  no  doubt  but 
she  thinks  the  world  of  me,  Sam.  Never  gave  me  a  cross 
word  yet,  and  I'll  own  up  that  at  first  I  was  kind  of  short 


ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN  319 

with  her,  although  I  never  licked  her  but  that  once  —  except 
—  and  that  was  just  love  taps  —  and  I'd  been  drinking. 

"  '  But,'  she  says,  '  being  Injun,  I  can't  help  believing  in 
medicine,  Charlie  dear,  and  I  think  you  make  bad  medicine 
for  yourself  every  time  you  raise  hell  with  your  poor  little 
wife.  It  certainly  has  always  looked  that  way.  It  skeers 
me,'  she  says,  '  and  I'm  afraid  that  sometime,  when  you 
say  ugly  things  or  do  ugly  things,  that  medicine  will  get  to 
working  and  make  something  awful  happen  to  you.  The 
house  might  burn  down  and  you  in  it.  You  try  to  act  bet- 
ter, Charlie  dear.' 

"  No,  Sam,"  says  Charlie,  "  I  don't  believe  she  ever  played 
it  on  me.  She  thinks  too  much  of  me.  And  I  treat  her 
well,  too,  and,  as  I  say,  she's  smart,  and  I'm  willing  to  take 
her  advice  now  and  then.  Listen !  " 

I  listened.  lysoah  was  singing  to  the  kid  in  that  dove 
voice : 

"  Dehan  iyoyanpa, 
Qa  ciyatan " 


"  Injun,"  thinks  I.  But  Charlie  was  looking  tickled  to 
death. 

Pretty  soon  she  stopped  and  Charlie  pinched  his  cigarette 
out  and  sneaked  the  stub  into  his  boot  leg.  The  bedroom 
door  opened  softly  and  she  stood  for  a  moment  in  the  open- 
ing, smiling  at  us  —  the  way  a  mother  smiles  when  she  has 
just  seen  her  baby's  eyes  close  in  sleep  and  has  laid  him 
down  on  his  little  pillow. 

lysoahinapewin,  sure  enough,  she  looked  —  the  rosy- 
light-of-dawn! 


820  ROSY-LIGHT-OF-DAWN 

"  That's  all  right,"  commented  the  bar  T  boy,  "  but  this 
here  Smithers  lady,  she  hasn't  got  no  Injun  in  her." 

"  Don't  you  let  that  worry  you,  son,"  said  the  old  bull- 
whacker.  "  They  all  have." 


THE  END 


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